Proving a Point
by Bloodypleasures
Summary: Alfred was just another kid who tried to fit into highschool and be popular. Arthur just wanted to prove to his parents that he could do much worse. Highschool!AU, USUK, other pairings, yaoi
1. Chapter 1

_Title_: Proving a point

_Chapter 1_

_Summary_: Alfred was just another kid who tried to fit into highschool and be popular. Arthur just wanted to prove to his parents that he could do much worse. Highschool!AU, USUK, other pairings

_A/N: _A new story! Also an excuse for why I haven't been updating my other Hetalia-related stories... sorry, I worked on them too this evening :D I'm going to keep this T-rated I think, but that might change, I don't know. It's my first Hetalia!Highschool fic, and it's probably to contain a lot of gay couples, so if you don't like, don't read! I also don't own Hetalia, etc etc... Also, I don't have a beta, and my English can be a bit wobbly every now and then, depends on my enthusiasm when I'm writing, haha xD

I hope you leave comment too! Enjoy~!

* * *

**Chapter 1**

If there was one thing that Arthur couldn't begin to understand, it was how his parents still put up with him.

When the alarm went off at seven a.m., Arthur felt ready to kill something. Though that would probably hurt his head even more than now. Recognizing the headache and sick feeling as a hangover, Arthur turned to slam the alarm off, only to find it had been moved to his desk.

Most likely the doing of his mother, so she was sure he was going to school.

He turned around and tried to hide in the warmth of his bed, but the beeping got really annoying. He tried glaring at it – wasn't it supposed to shut itself off after five minutes? There was no way getting around this. He was already awake now, might as well get up.

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair as the youngest of the family stood at his door, glaring at him. "Mom told me you had to go to school, whether you liked it or not." Peter said, louder than normal to be heard over the alarm.

"Get lost, brat." Arthur scoffed at him, glaring. Peter stuck out his tongue, but left anyway. He should leave a note on his bed or something if he planned on going home drunk; always lock the door before you go to sleep. Thank god it was only his younger brother still living in the house.

Automatically, he went over the night before. He remembered most of the evening before – there was a party at Gilbert's and Ludwig's. Francis had dragged him along, but since Arthur never really felt comfortable at parties like that, he did what he could do pretty well – get drunk.

He went about his morning routine slowly, feeling no hurry to go to school. He'd miss first period, but he could make up an excuse. And it wasn't as if he would be the only one – he doubted some others were going to school at all today.

His mother was about to leave for work once he finally stumbled down. She smiled at him and patted his hair gently. "We'll let it slide this time, but no more parties during school days. I wish you'd stop hanging out with those boys too…" Arthur's eyebrows twitched. "There's breakfast in the kitchen. Have a good day, sweetheart."

"Whatever… thanks." He let her give him a peck and watched as she left. The door shut behind her and Arthur let out a frustrated groan. Why wasn't she mad? He had gone to a party on a Wednesday, had gotten absolutely drunk, and had made no point of hiding it when stumbling in the house at three a.m.!

He shuffled over to the kitchen, grabbing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting one quickly. He wasn't quite hungry, but he knew his nausea would fade into hunger sooner or later, so he still took the plate with toast to the table.

Peter sniffed. "You're not allowed to smoke in the house!"

"So? What are _you _going to do about it?"

"I'll tell mom!"

Arthur chuckled. "Be my guest. Aren't you late or something?" He played with his toast a little, before taking a bite and forcing it down with some orange juice. Peter complained about how he was just as late, but at least it got the brat scurrying off to get his stuff. Arthur didn't reply when Peter yelled his goodbye, closing his eyes at the silence in the house.

Why was there money near his wallet, why was there a warm breakfast waiting for him, and why in the hell was there no angry comment from his mother this morning? Were they saints? He came home in the middle of the fucking night, had loudly announced his displeasure and had a good, loud fight with his father, before passing out on his bed, all clothes on.

Perhaps the 'talk' would come at dinner, tonight.

Oh who was he fucking kidding. Smoking, drinking, breaking the rules, it all didn't matter. His parents were convinced it was just a phase. One of his older brothers had went through it. It upset him; it felt as if his parents weren't taking him seriously.

He still had a few things on his list though. He could get a tattoo, but he's rather against the idea. It's so permanent. Then there was a piercing. A much more logical solution. Somewhere visible too. Or perhaps he should dye his hair bright red or bright green, or something bright and idiotic. Though that would all be considered 'a phase'. A phase wasn't permanent. Perhaps a tattoo was a good idea..

Arthur threw the rest of his breakfast away and grabbed his bag and coat, heading for school. He was late for first period, as expected, and instead off barging into the room in the middle of a class, he opted to wait it out on the parking lot.

About ten minutes before second period would begin, a familiar car drove in and parked neatly. Arthur scoffed, mentally preparing himself. He watched as one of his oldest friends, Francis, gracefully stepped out of the car, swishing his ridiculously long hair while doing so. God, he was such a girl.

"Oh, _sourcils!_" Francis called with delight. Arthur glared. "How do you feel? You were _so _drunk last night, _mon ami_."

"Yes, yes, don't remind me. I have the hangover, don't worry." Arthur said sarcastically, slapping Francis his arm from his shoulders. "It wasn't even a fun party."

The other laughed, shaking his head. "It's never a fun party when you're there, Arthur. Ouch, stop, I was kidding! Did Michelle make a move on you yet?" Francis asked, his eyebrows raising in curiosity. Arthur rolled his eyes. Somehow, he was obsessed with the idea that Michelle, a girl from a class below him, was in love with him. He hardly ever talked to her, and he will never really talk to her either.

"Obviously not." He replied. "And that's good for her, because I would have rejected her anyway."

"Your sex life is so boring. Or well, your non-existent sex life."

"Shut up, frog! Just because you sleep around with anything that's willing, doesn't mean we're all like that!" Arthur fumed, glaring at the other. Well, he was never really angry with the Frenchman, but Francis could just really annoy him sometimes.

They postponed the rest of the conversation because of second period. At least it was one of Arthur's favourite classes - literature. He was exceptionally good in it too, and he liked to brag about it. Well, to himself. No one was really impressed with him being good in literature. His parents would be, but they're impressed with him for everything, the dolts.

He dazed off during his classes, trying to will the headache he still had away. Today was going to be a non-productive day, whether he wanted it or not. He decided to go to the library to turn in some books, and loaning a few others, in his short break. It wasn't until the lunch break, he saw Francis again. They almost immediately started up their argument again.

"You should try it, Arthur, perhaps it'll take the edges off!"

"Edges off where?"

"You." Francis said dead-seriously, and Arthur rolled his eyes. Damn the frog. Gilbert snickered, but was otherwise engaged pestering some Hungarian classmate of his. Antonio sighed and decided to stand up for Arthur.

"Leave him be, _amigo_. Not everyone is so romantically driven as you." He said soothingly, and Francis pouted, leaning back. "How did you get home last night?" He asked, turning to Arthur.

Francis dramatically interrupted. "I took his sorry ass home! He didn't even thank me for it!" Arthur gave him a look, and Francis ignored him. "I was about to get it on with this cute guy too, and then he just intervened."

Arthur scowled. "Oh, I intervened? I was having a great time until you claimed you had to drag me home! What, that guy wasn't interesting enough? Obviously you used me as an escape."

"Nonsense! Mathieu is _very _interesting."

"Matthew? Matthew Williams?" Gilbert asked suddenly, turning away from the brunette. Francis nodded, smiling brightly.

"_Oui_! He's quite the adorable-"

"Oh snap, Jones his brother is gay? Must be hard on that family, two gay sons." Gilbert joked, laughing a bit too loud.

"Oh please," said Arthur. "Jones has girls flocking at his side every moment. And Francis can just make about every guy who doesn't know him gay. _And_ emotionally depressed afterwards."

Gilbert sniffed. "Yeah right. I bet my pay-check from last month that they're both gay. Oh man, this is gold. They're probably not out, the golden boys. I remembered when Ludwig admitted he had a thing with Feliciano, oh man, my folks were _so _angry it wasn't even amusing. At least they already knew I was a total shit."

"Don't talk about your parents like that." Antonio scolded softly.

Francis, Antonio and Gilbert continued their friendly bantering about closet-gays and what not, and it suddenly hit Arthur. He knew how to rile his parents up. His older three brothers weren't exactly the stars of the family, and Peter was still young. Perhaps that's why they were so ignorant– they saw him as the most promising son of the family. Oh, this was just perfect.

He had to get himself a _boy_friend.

He smirked. If that wouldn't at least anger his dad, then nothing would. He thought about the idea first. He didn't know if he was gay actually – he had never really thought about it. He knew he was not homophobic though – he was surrounded with gay and bisexual people. Francis, Gilbert. Even Antonio has fallen for some angry Italian boy.

Besides, getting a boyfriend didn't mean he had to go all the way or something. He just wanted to get the point across. And then he'd be done, that's all he really wants after all.

He had to pick someone though. Preferably someone he didn't know well. Someone a bit submissive would be good too, couldn't have someone forcing him into things. Someone mellow, and not very intelligent… He looked around the cafeteria discreetly. He mostly saw idiots, girls, fools, wankers. Sure, they weren't very intelligent, but he was already disgusted at the idea.

Lunch break passed, and he was on his way to chemistry, mulling over his plan. He could also pick someone outside of school. That way they didn't have to see each other every day, and he could use the excuse of having 'school-stuff to do'. But he didn't know a lot of people outside of school, and he was horrible at socializing too.

He decided to drop the thought for now, and was about to enter the classroom, when someone else was about to enter it. They collided rather harshly because the other idiot was running, and Arthur cursed.

"Watch where you're going, you bloody twat!" He snapped, regaining balance. He glared up at his attacker.

Alfred F. Jones and his ridiculous big grin stared down at him. "Oh, sorry, didn't see you there… You all right?"

"Get lost." Arthur said, as he passed the other into the classroom.

"Hey now, no need to get all hot and bothered. It was an accident. Here," Arthur turned around again, seeing that Alfred was holding out one of his notebooks. "Slipped outta your bag." Alfred said with a smile.

Arthur snatched it, not thanking the other. It was his fault anyway. He promptly sat down and ignored the other, but Alfred just laughed. "Feisty, aren't you?"

"Could you just… Oh forget it." Arthur said, before something clicked. Alfred F. Jones, one of the golden boys of the school, and a complete idiot, probably gay or at least bisexual, and oh so wonderfully naïve and impressionable.

Arthur flashed him a smile. "Alfred, was it?"

* * *

**Eeeeend of chapter 1~! **


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: _I do not own Hetalia :C

_A/N: T_hanks for the feedback! I really appreciate it :D So this chapter is a follow up from the last one, no smut yet~ All in time, haha xD Again, sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy~!

**Chapter 2**

There had been no fight or argument over dinner that evening, as predicted. It had set Arthur in an incredibly foul mood, and he had been snappy over everything. Peter had ran from the room, teary-eyed because he couldn't win an argument. His mother had merely sighed and gone after him, and his father had asked Arthur how his day had went. Even replying in curt, rude answers didn't get them to snap at him.

His mother had been a little bit irritated at him when he played with his food, instead of eating it. When he had said he was a little bit nauseous, his father commented on how he shouldn't be going out and drink so much, and that he should eat his dinner. Arthur had rebelled, and had been send to his room, but his mum had still brought him a cup of tea later that night. Damn it. Why were they so sweet? It was hard to rebel and hate them if they were so kind.

During his free period, he went outside to smoke a cigarette. The day has been pretty boring so far – he had kept an eye out for the blonde boy he was intending to… what should he call it, charm? It was hardly seducing. Oh god, the idea sounded stupider by the minute, but it had to be done. But alas, Alfred hadn't been in any of his classes yet. They did both have chemistry yesterday. Upon Arthur's invitation to talk, Alfred had promptly sat down next to him. The class had given them a rather weird look – nobody really knew Arthur, and everyone knew Alfred, and the two of them together was something entirely foreign.

Arthur wondered how he was going to work around this. Alfred was obviously naïve – he hadn't suspected that Arthur actually had a motive for talking to him. He had simply been his usual idiotic self and had blabbered away about himself and about the project they were going to have to prepare for in chemistry. When Alfred had offered they would do it together, Arthur had hesitatingly accepted.

"You shouldn't smoke, it's bad for you, dude."

Speak of the devil. Arthur tried not to glare and snap at him (it was his own life, the git). Ah, he forgot to mention that… aside of the twat being naïve and loud, he absolutely irritated the hell out of Arthur. But he couldn't give up. Besides, the other found his rude comments and insults funny. "So?"

Alfred smiled, leaning on the wall opposite of Arthur. "You can get cancer and stuff."

"Actually, smoking does not cause cancer. It enhances the cancer cells you already have. If I do get cancer, then I was doomed anyhow because I would have had those cells." Arthur explained dully, taking a large drag from his cig to prove his point.

The other boy frowned. "Oh, I didn't know that… guess I just believed what they always say on the covers, huh?"

"I would recommend you not to judge a book by its cover, but you're right when you say it's bad. It just doesn't cause cancer." He didn't feel like smoking anymore, and he stubbed it out before throwing it in the trash can nearby. "You have a free period as well?"

"Yeah…"

Arthur nodded, and Alfred nodded, and fuck, this was slightly uncomfortable. Arthur had no idea how he was going to do this, and he felt like he shouldn't really be talking to the other. Alfred was looking away from him, and Arthur decided that he might as well study him a bit. He wasn't dressed fancy or rebellious, just jeans with a shirt and a leather jacket. He had worn that jacket yesterday, too. He had glasses, and Arthur decided he rather liked them… without them, Alfred would most likely have some kind of babyish face. It took him a few seconds to notice that Alfred was looking right back at him, eyebrows raised, and he cleared his throat, feeling heat crawling up on his neck. Was he blushing? What was he, a fucking schoolgirl? This was getting ridiculous.

"You're friends with Francis, right?"

The question kind of caught him of guard and Arthur squinted, before nodding slowly. If Francis did anything that could ruin his plan, oh man, Arthur was going to force at least five scones down the frog's throat. "Why do you want to know?"

Alfred laughed sheepishly. "Oh well, it's stupid… my little brother is kinda hanging out with him, and I'm… I don't know. Protective or something. Man, that sounds lame."

"I thought you had a twin brother."

"Yeah, I'm older by five minutes. But he's kinda the loner, y'know, always by himself and really shy and silent. I kinda look out for him, cause I'm obviously not shy and silent." He said, adding a chuckle at the last part. "It's just…" He trailed off, but decided to continue when Arthur just looked at him curiously. "He kinda came out a few weeks ago, and now this Francis guy, who I know is totally gay, is bothering him, and… yeah."

Arthur smirked. "So you want to know if Francis is all right, or not?" Alfred nodded. "Well, I can't assure you that he's not a frog-faced bastard who's willing to have sex without about everything on legs. But I can smack him around for you if you want to, he usually listens to me if I threaten him enough."

His offer made Alfred laugh, and Arthur watched in bewilderment as the boy threw his head back slightly. What he said, it wasn't _that _funny. "That's not necessary I guess. I just, want to warn Mattie about him. Assure him I'll kick his ass when it goes wrong and stuff. Besides, I don't think Mattie is man enough to do something."

The Brit nodded, noting that he should threaten Francis anyway – if he was going to hurt the other's brother, then Arthur would rather stay out of it. "So he's gay?"

"Yup. Or maybe bi. He doesn't really know. He just had this huge crush on this Cuban dude once, but he's not denying that Ivan's sister looks hot too. The older one. The younger one is like a total creep. Sure, she's hot, but man, she's psychotic."

"You're more a breast-man?" Oh, this conversation was going exactly where Arthur wanted it to go.

Alfred shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Eh… I'm not really any kind of man I guess." He said mysteriously, and Arthur sighed. Alfred could've just admitted he was gay, and Arthur knew enough.

"Surely you have something that attracts you? Or are women not your area of expertise?" Arthur decided on asking, a sly grin on his face. Sure enough, Alfred immediately blushed a few shades of red, and averted his eyes quickly. He was obviously looking for some kind of answer, and Arthur decided to help him a little. "Not that it's any of my business."

"Ah, it's okay… I guess you could say I've never thought about things like that. Most logical thing to do in this school is just get a girlfriend and stuff."

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

Alfred looked at him for a moment, before shaking his head, and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. That would've been a bitch to clear up. "Me neither." Arthur thought of adding something that insinuated he was gay, but he decided against it. His fingers suddenly itched for another cigarette, and he frowned, not wanting another one. He wasn't going to become one of those chain smokers, he didn't even have the money for it.

The conversation was obviously over, and Arthur figured he had to go back inside now if he didn't want to miss his next class, but Alfred wasn't making any movements that implied he was leaving either, and he wondered if Alfred had another free period. "Are you going to the party this weekend?" He heard Alfred ask quickly, when Arthur made some movements towards the door.

Arthur quickly scanned his memory. Gilbert wasn't throwing a party, because he'd be flaunting it all over the school. He was pretty sure Antonio was heading over to the Italian's place, because he didn't shut up about it. "You mean Mathias his party tomorrow?" He thought he had heard the Scandinavian shout an invitation to everyone hearing it in the cafeteria. "Might as well."

Alfred smiled warmly. "Cool. Guess I'll see you there then… gotta run, class. See you later, Artie!" He said as he turned from the wall and started walking to the door. Arthur mumbled his 'later', before he caught up on what the other said.

"It's Arthur, you git!" he shouted, just as the American opened the door. Alfred let out one of those laughs again, and Arthur grumbled angrily. He _hated _nicknames.

Arriving in art class, Arthur sat down next to Francis and flicked his forehead. "I 've got two things to say – no, wait – _demand_ of you. First, if you hurt that Williams guy and get Jones pissed, I will hurt you. And you're going to Mathias party with me tomorrow. Pick me up at eight."

Francis pouted. "I wasn't going to hurt him! How could you think of me like that? He's not into me anyway…"

"He's gay. Alfred said so."

"Honhonhon, it's Alfred now, instead of Jones? One day and already so much progress, oh, _l'amour. _Wait, he's gay! I can't believe my luck! Is he going to be there tomorrow?"

"I guess, the twat said he'd see me there."

"…I meant Mathieu, but good for you that Alfred is coming." Francis said with a boisterous wink, and Arthur replied with a good stomp on the shoulder. "So, what's your tactic tomorrow? You're going to get wasted and throw yourself on him, or?"

"Shut your trap, frog! I'm not going to get wasted! And I'm not going to _throw _myself on him, that's disgusting."

"So you plan on getting in his pants by reading him poetry? _Mon dieu_, Arthur, even though you aren't bad to look at, that typical British behavior isn't going to get you far." It earned him another stomp, and Francis whined about how abusive this relationship was, which earned him another. Finally, Arthur calmed down from a heavily accented string of curses that Francis didn't always completely catch, and settled for glaring.

"I'm not trying to get into his pants either. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"You are _such _a virgin. Ouch!"

Arthur promptly turned away from the Frenchman and settled on ignoring him, focusing on what nonsense their teacher was sprouting. He wasn't acting like a virgin, he just didn't care for the same things that Francis did. Francis acted as if Arthur had never… well, he never had full-on sex actually. Fuck. Would it be a little too much to just throw that into the deal too? Yeah, probably. He certainly had the opportunity before, but he never felt the need for it, so he was inexperienced saved for the drunken promises and lewd talking from the idiot next to him and the slightly unsatisfying things he did himself. It'd probably not serve any trouble.

Arthur missed the bus while on his way home, and was forced to walk home instead. It wasn't a far distance, but it was boring because, _of course, _the battery of his iPod also died. He had been mildly fighting with the idea of waiting until Francis or Antonio got out, but he would've been home by the time either of them would drive him home. He idly played around with his mobile, sending a few texts and checking his mail, when a car slowed down next to him. Arthur wasn't sure if he should be happy or not, so he decided that he didn't feel anything when he saw Alfred and his brother in the car next to him. It had an open roof, that was pretty neat…

"Hey, you want a ride?"

"No thanks." Arthur replied immediately. He didn't really feel any need to, anyhow, and he decided he had had enough of the American today. He couldn't really overdo this, after all.

"It's no trouble, come on!" Alfred continued, and Matthew sighed, turning to his brother and mumbling something. "What? Nah. We're friends!"

Arthur tensed, looking at Alfred suspiciously. If that was the case, then Alfred must have a lot of friends. If he liked to believe that, then why not? It wasn't a problem, as long as Alfred didn't get all stalkerish or even more annoying. He already felt the impulse to insult him for saying something like that so carelessly, but this was just how he was, and Arthur had to overlook it.

"It's only a five minute walk from here. I'll be fine."

Alfred seemed a little disappointed, and Arthur almost gave in, but then the American smiled brightly and nodded. "All right… See you... Oh! Do you got a ride to Mathias? Want me to pick you up?"

What the fuck?

One of Arthur's eyebrows twitched and he forced himself to keep walking, the car slowly trotting on next to him. He didn't know how to respond. He did have a ride, but perhaps he should take on Alfred's offer.. Or not. He actually wanted to mention Francis, to see if it got a rise out of either of the boys.

"I've already got a ride from Francis, so again, no thanks." He said airily, and mentally smirked when Matthew immediately whipped his head back to the Brit. Aha, so Matthew _did _like the Frenchman. Well, who didn't? Arthur was perhaps one of the few who could actually see the frog behind those curtains of blonde hair. Alfred frowned, but shrugged.

"Oh, all right… well, see you tomorrow then. Bye!"

Arthur didn't respond and watched the car speed off after that, before crossing the street. He wondered if Alfred was always like this with friends. Did he live nearby? Why else did he offer him a ride? Why should he care how Arthur got to the party, by foot or car? And why the hell was he still thinking about it?

* * *

**That's chapter 2! **


	3. Chapter 3

_I don't own hetalia :C_

**Chapter 3**

Even though Arthur wasn't a very sociable and likeable person, he managed to have a few friends. There was of course Francis (who he really couldn't stand, but okay), and Antonio. He didn't count Gilbert as a friend, because he really wanted to snap the German's neck sometimes. Kiku was a formidable, polite person who shared some interest with Arthur, but the Japanese boy was a little too traditional and… quiet. There was Nikolas, the boyfriend of the overenthusiastic Dane throwing this party, who shared his interest of mythical and fantastical creatures. But Nikolas wasn't very fun. There was Tino, and Arthur really liked Tino. If it weren't for that crazy boyfriend of his, he might have considered hanging out with the Fin more. But that Berwald guy was intimidating, and if there was one thing Arthur hated, it was intimidating.

Arthur dared to admit that Lovino could be amusing, sometimes, when they weren't biting each other's heads off. They both had a fierce personality. Feliciano was plain dumb, and Ludwig was the same as Berwald. He considered Roderich, who was quite the neat guy, but Roderich was _somehow _always with Gilbert or Elizabeth, both of which he didn't like very much.

He sipped the bottle with red stuff that Mathias had shoved into his hands upon arrival thoughtfully. He didn't drink enough to be drunk, but he might just change that, seeing the ruckus the party was becoming. Though it was fun to see Mathias running around, Nikolas following him stoically to make sure nothing happened. But apart from that, Mathias wasn't a very good host.

"Arthur!"

There was no Berwald in sight. Good. "Hey Tino. Where's your bodyguard?"

Tino laughed and scratched the back of his neck. "Ice passed out a few minutes ago. Be's putting him to bed." Ice was Nikolas' his brother, but since he had dyed his hair white, he'd been nicknamed Ice. Arthur had no idea what his real name was. "Just came to say Alfred's looking for you. I didn't know you two were friends?"

"We're not friends." Arthur automatically replied, and Tino just chuckled. "I've hardly known him for a week." He added with some thought. It was true though, Arthur only started talking to him since three days or so.

Suddenly, his smell was invaded with a disgusting perfume, and Arthur wrinkled his nose at the sight of the frog in front of him. Francis dramatically whipped his hair and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Arthur, _mon cher,_ you have to help me. I can't sweep Mathieu of his feet with that American oaf standing so close! I value my face."

"Wanker." Arthur said, grinning widely. Leave it to Alfred to keep Francis at bay. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"I don't know, distract Jones or something. Isn't that part of your plan?"

"Plan?" Tino quipped curiously. "Ooooooh! Do you plan on going out with Alfred? You'd be such a cute couple!" He went completely ignored though, and Arthur glared heatedly at the guy in front of him.

"Get lost, frog. Fight your own battles."

"I _could. _I'd just tell Alfred your strategy and-"

"All right! Fine. Bloody hell." Arthur interrupted quickly, standing up. He left Tino at the bar and quickly followed the Frenchman into the crowd, until suddenly Francis stopped. It almost felt like some conspiracy, because Francis ducked a little and pointed to the two brothers, talking and laughing about something. Arthur smirked, it was probably going to get really easy. According to Tino, Alfred was already looking for him, so he could lure him out. "What do I get for this, exactly?"

"My silence." Stomp. "You can have my copy of _Notre-Dame de Paris_. And don't whine, I know you love French literature."

Good enough. Arthur nodded, and stepped out of the big crowd to approach his favourite American, bottle of whatever still in his hand. Granted, Alfred noticed him almost immediately and put on his biggest smile.

"Artie! I was looking for ya!"

"It's _Arthur_." He replied without a blink, frowning at the other. "Come on, I want to show you something." There wasn't much of a battle plan in his mind, Arthur decided he could just take the American somewhere, and then drop him with an excuse, and Francis would probably have eloped or something like that with Matthew. Alfred looked confused, but nodded anyway, leaving his brother to talk with some others. Wow, that was really easy.

"Did you drink that entire bottle? Man, I'm surprised you can walk straight." Oh, was the bottle almost empty? The realization of it made Arthur swing his arm upwards to look at the bottle, and he wobbled to the side. He felt his arms grabbed by Alfred's hands (holy cow, were they really that huge or did he just have thin arms?), and he was steadied. Alfred laughed nervously. "Or maybe you can't. What did you want to show me?" Arthur stopped, leaning against the wall and pushing the bottle into Alfred's hands. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and wanted to light one, but the lighter wasn't cooperating. "You should really stop smoking. It smells awful, y'know."

Arthur glared heatedly, shoving the cigarette and his lighter back into his pocket. "What the hell do you care, you twat?" If he did quit smoking, though, he'd have enough money left to perhaps buy a good book. A Jane Austen, or Wuthering Heights… he loved that book. "Do _you _think I smell bad?" He stepped closer to Alfred with a meaningful smirk, and Alfred visibly gulped and took a step back.

"Ah… no, I just… I mean, smoke isn't really… y'know."

"You think I smell _good_, then?"

Alfred was blushing, Arthur could see it even though it was dark. He felt like giggling, but protected his pride by not doing so. He was about to mentally debate the pros and cons of pride, when he missed the table he wanted to lean on and surged forward into the other. Alfred laughed at his stumbling, pushing him up straight again. "I hope you didn't want to show me you were still smoking."

"Idiot, I just wanted to lure you away from Matthew so Francis could have his French way with him." Arthur said, slapping Alfred's hands from his arms. He watched with interest, as Alfred's face turned from amused, to slightly angry in the matter of seconds. Was Alfred going to be angry with him? Would he snap? Fight? Arthur held his breath and his lips twitched upwards slightly, but Alfred's shoulders instead just relaxed again. What?

"Should have known, the bastard had been around him the entire night. Oh well, can't help it if Mattie wants it too." Arthur wanted to groan in disappointment. Why wasn't he angry? What Arthur did was kind of a shit move, right? Was he that much of an idiot? He sighed and tried to snatch the bottle that Alfred had put on the table next to them, but Alfred restrained him from doing so. "I think you had enough." He said with an amused grin.

"Have I given you my mobile number yet?" Arthur slurred, completely ignoring what the other said and still trying to grab the bottle. Alfred let him and brightened a little more. Obviously not. Would it be a good idea to give his number? He could already imagine the countless of annoying, childish texts he'd be receiving. Ah, but he kinda needed his number… He took a swig of the red stuff and decided it didn't matter.

"I totally forgot asking you, dude! Here, gimme your phone."

"It's 'give me', not gimme… _dude._"

Alfred laughed as Arthur scolded him and tried to mimic him in an accented voice. Arthur knew that when he drank a few, his English accent got even heavier. It usually amused the shit out of his drinking partners, but they weren't around. He watched the other tick his number in, doing the same with his own mobile, before handing it back. 'The Hero'? Seriously? How strangely childish. He snapped his phone closed and emptied the bottle, dropping it onto the table again.

"You better not spam me after this." Arthur warned, leaning onto the American as he tried to steady again. Alfred laughed, and he was about to continue his insulting, when Mathias and Nikolas bumped into them. "Watch where you're going, wankers!"

"I won't be the one wanking tonight! Ouch, baby, don't hit me!" Mathias had a reluctant Nikolas trapped in his arms, dragging him down the hall and up the stairs. Oh, yuck. Arthur definitely didn't want to see that. "Dude, Jones, tap some British ass tonight will ya!"

"Shut the bloody hell up, you bastard!" Arthur replied, even though nothing was said to him. He took some pleasure in the fact Alfred turned red-faced, but had otherwise ignored the Dane, focusing on making sure Arthur didn't fall flat on his face. He could get used to this, he couldn't count the times he'd ended up tripping because he had one sip too much, and a living pole to hold onto wasn't bad. "You should hold me." Arthur said, mirroring his thoughts in words. "But I'm not a girl!"

"I think that's quite obvious." Alfred said with another nervous laugh, and if Arthur wasn't sure that he wasn't blind, he'd think the American _actually _raked his eyes over him. The nerve of the bastard! He reached out to slap him, but his hand instead found the other's shoulder and weakly pushed against it.

"Are you gay?" Arthur decided on asking boldly. He was already sure that the other was at least bisexual, but now he had the guts to ask him, and the whole ordeal would go so much easier if he knew for sure. At Alfred's silence, he pouted. "Do you think my ass is hot in this outfit?"

"W-What?" Alfred did splutter at this, and blushed. Arthur smirked as Alfred's eyes involuntarily went down again, and he wiggled his hips. "I-I-I don't… I mean, eh, I don't know." At Arthur's raised eyebrows, he cleared his throat. "I'm not anything, I guess."

"You're asexual? That's an anti-climax."

"No! I mean, I guess I just… I don't know, love is love, right? Gender doesn't matter. Hell, you're drunk. Let me take you home."

"I want another drink." The Brit protested, pushing weakly against the American's arms when Alfred gently lead them through the rooms to the exit. "I'm going to call rape if you don't unhand me! Alfred!" He whined, and he heard the American laugh. "If we both leave, I'm sure Francis will rape Matthew! Let me go." He trailed off a little at the end, seeing the room was still passing by his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure Mattie can handle himself." Alfred said, before leading them both outside. The cold air immediately sobered Arthur up a good deal, and he blinked, shaking his head and shaking free of the other.

"Bloody hell. The world is suddenly digital." For some reason, this was really funny to the other, and Alfred burst out into laughter, throwing his head back in that weird style of his. Arthur scowled, following Alfred to his car. He supposed the party was getting a bit boring, and with Mathias and Nikolas upstairs, he was sure Berwald would put an end to the alcohol-flow.

Once at the car, Alfred unlocked it and held open the door for Arthur, bowing dramatically. "Your ride, good sir!"

Arthur scoffed. "This isn't the same car. Are you a car dealer?"

"This is my own car, I was driving my parent's car the other day because my baby was getting repairs." Alfred said with a warm smile, and Arthur's eyes twitched slightly. This car looked a lot cheaper and older, and it didn't have any kind of open roof. He never did understand a man's relationship with his car. It resembled a girl with her Barbie, somehow. Oh well, he wasn't supposed to judge, he didn't even own a bloody car.

"If you're taking me home, _Francis_ will take _Matthew_ home." He tried one last time, hoping to get a rise out of the other. Alfred was unfazed though, and merely shrugged. Francis was probably taking Matthew home yes, but he wasn't sure which. He wasn't _that _straightforward most of the times.

He shuddered, squinting and wrapping his arms around himself, refusing to take a step closer to the car. He didn't know why, actually, it just felt right to rebel. Something heavy and warm fell on his shoulders the second after he shuddered though, and the smell of leather invaded his nose, making him slightly nauseous. "Just get in the car, you're going to catch a cold!" Alfred said cheerfully, and Arthur grumbled, reluctantly dropping himself in the leather seat. Did Alfred had some sort of fetish for leather? That was kinky. No wait.

"You're an idiot." Arthur announced once Alfred got into the car as well, starting it and moving onto the road. "And I'm going to pretend you don't know my address like some stalker and tell you where I live."

"Huh? Oh dude, I totally don't know it! I'm definitely not a stalker, I just figured I'd drive where you were walking earlier, y'know, and then you could give me directions!"

"Stop rambling, you twat!"

Alfred relaxed, and chuckled. "Sorry, sorry. So… where do you live?" Arthur mumbled his address, satisfied his accent got less and less. He was sobering up quite well, but he hadn't drunken that much.

A somewhat comfortable silence followed, Alfred fumbling with the radio before Arthur snapped at him that he didn't need to hear music, and after another nervous laugh and apology, Alfred just watched the road and Arthur leaned his face on the window. "Why don't you have a girlfriend?" Arthur suddenly asked, genuinely interested for once. He didn't know why Alfred did it, but he'd figured that Alfred was kind of the ideal boyfriend. He'd held onto Arthur because he was wobbly, and was even taking him home. If Arthur didn't knew better, he'd honestly thought Alfred was already making moves on him. But that wasn't the plan, Arthur had to be the first, so it obviously wasn't so. _Anyway_, Alfred would probably make a great boyfriend. He's obviously caring and protective, and while he's annoying, he's good natured and probably funny, although Arthur didn't always share his sense of humour.

Alfred shrugged. "Don't need it." Arthur noticed that Alfred had cast him a look during the short response, and smiled lightly. Oh, the idiot was so obvious sometimes. "Why do you ask?"

The question went completely ignored, and Alfred didn't seem to mind, mindlessly tapping his fingers on the wheel while waiting for a red light. Arthur blinked, he was getting kind of tired. He wondered how late it was, and if his parents went to bed already. Probably not. Or at least, his mum was probably still awake. She had a habit of trying to wait for him on evenings like these.

"Can we take a detour?" Arthur asked, and Alfred cocked his head at the random question. "I don't want to go home just yet." Saying it like that made it sound all dramatic, and Arthur wondered what Alfred thought right now. It wasn't anything dramatic though, Arthur just didn't want to go home yet. Alfred quickly switched lanes, and Arthur smiled, it wasn't a big detour, but the way around the building complexes would give him another five minutes.

"Did you see the new Spiderman movie?"

Arthur _hated _superhero movies. He hated the cinema too – there were too many people, and the snacks were disgusting, and it smelled in the theatre, and there were always stupid couples snogging each other's brains out too loudly.

"No."

Alfred immediately went into some kind of nerd-frenzy. "Really? You _have _to go. It's so awesome! It's pretty accurate with the comics too. Did you read the comics? No? Dude, you have to! Spidey is so cool! He's one of my favourite superheroes. Superman is my top though, he's the real hero! Have you seen the Avengers movie? No? Man, you're missing out on so much fun stuff! I think I went to see the Avengers for at least five times. The Hulk was so badass in there! I didn't really like the movies about the Hulk, but in this one he was really awesome! I don't get the fuss about Hawkeye though, I'm not _that _into him. Not when Iron Man or Captain America are on the screen too! Captain America is definitely the second best, but he can't _fly, _y'know! And Iron Man is totally awesome, because he's one of the only ones that actually revealed their identity to the public! That's-"

"Do you have a kink for superheroes or something?" Arthur snapped, getting quite annoyed at the long rant. Alfred immediately shut up and blushed.

"Ah, n-no, I just meant… I just meant to say it's awesome and you should go and see it. Sorry, I didn't mean to rant…"

Arthur sighed, annoyed by the kicked-puppy look the other was currently sporting. Damn it, he was feeling guilty for snapping, and why the hell should he? "Perhaps you should take me then." He offered, trying to put a lot more innuendo in it than he should, just for kicks. Alfred, the naïve idiot that he was, didn't notice the innuendo, but he gave him a unreadable look anyway.

"You mean to the Spiderman movie?"

"Yeah. You said you watched that… Avengers movie for five times. Seeing Spiderman twice wouldn't hurt, right?" He forced a somewhat charming smile onto his face, and Alfred smiled brightly back at him, the red tinge still on his cheeks from earlier.

"…All right! Deal!" Arthur shook his head when Alfred went into another rant about Spiderman, and when they finally reached his house, he was mildly surprised that Alfred jumped out of the car to help him out. He wasn't a girl, he didn't need help… or maybe he did, Arthur thought, when he wobbled a little. Alfred flashed him a big grin, winking. "One condition though! You have to let me pick you up."

Arthur scoffed. "And what, we're going for dinner too?"

"Sure! I'll text you later, good night!"

He was already in the car and driving away, Arthur still standing on the front porch of his house. What… what the hell? Dinner and a movie? Did he make this a date? Who made this a date? Did Arthur had the intention of making this a date? He wanted to go to the movies, yeah, that was… shit, that was kind of a date. And now he got dinner with it too. But that was really obvious. A movie between friends, all right, but _dinner_? Arthur flinched. And Alfred hadn't even seemed fazed by it. Was Alfred really that much of an idiot or was… damn, Alfred made the first move. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. It was too fast, too, they only knew each other for what, three days? Arthur cursed. Bloody twat.

"Arthur, is that you? Get inside, it's cold! Is that your jacket?"

And he left his bloody leather bomber jacket with him too. The _twat_!

* * *

**I don't know if many of you were bothered, but I made Francis the sort of best friend for once XD I'm getting kinda tired of the stereotype bad touch trio bullying Artie. Soooo yes. :D **


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, meh_

_A/N: So I noticed more and more people questioning Artie's behaviour in the reviews xD I was trying to give the impression he was sort of shy and didn't know how to handle it, hence his somewhat annoyed and laidback attitude, and surprise when Alfred makes moves on him. Arthur had never even though about being gay, keep that in mind as well. So, not knowing how to act, he tries to act the same as towards others.. but nicer lololol. Don't worry, it's allll going to change soon~! _

_And BitchinPenmanship, you have NO idea how happy your review made me. Asldfk. :D Thank you so much! _

_Hope you guys enjoy the fourth chapter~!_

**Chapter 4**

"Get up, _sourcils,_ you missed first and second period."

Arthur opened his eyes groggily, for a second wondering where the hell he was before he recognized the white ceiling. Why was he here again? He carefully collected his memory of the weekend. Saturday, ignored his parents, got the house for himself, deleted Alfred's text asking if he felt like shit or not. Sunday, homework… and a somewhat one-sided fight with his mother. He scowled when he remembered she said Colin would be coming the weekend after next. He had promptly replied that he was away for the weekend (he'd stay in the park if he'd had to), and his mother forbad him from sleeping over at someone else's place, though mildly telling him he could go to a party or something. Arthur had kicked a tantrum, left the house, and had crashed at Francis his house for more drama. Usually he'd jump for the opportunity to fight with his mother, but this was an inevitable thing. No matter how much he'd scream, Colin was still coming.

He hated Colin. Of course, everyone hated their siblings. But he _really _did. From the moment Arthur was born to the moment Colin left for Scotland, he had made his life a living hell. Aiden had naturally followed, and Ian had ignored all of them, so it was really just Arthur on his own against his two oldest brothers.

If there were any social traumas he'd have, it was because of them. And despite the few scars he got from when he was pushed too hard or had been hit with something, his mother stuck to the belief it was how they showed Arthur their love. The thing that somehow upset Arthur the most was, that they left Peter alone. But he wasn't jealous or something. In a few years, he'd most likely be leaving for England and then he'd never be forced to see the idiot duo again.

He promptly had left the house and walked over to Francis his house, muttering his brother's name and pulling out the spare bed himself. Francis had just let him do whatever he wanted, still on the phone with Matthew, and Arthur had fallen asleep before Francis had been done. It was quite comforting, to know that he had the key to Francis his house and could crash here whenever he liked. He wasn't as annoying in here either. Francis had a little sister he continuously fawned over, and it'd be no good if he still acted like a sex-deprived pervert then.

"I said, _get up_." A pillow was thrown into his face.

"Bastard. You could've woken me up earlier." Arthur mumbled, sitting up and ruffling through his hair.

"I don't start until third period, and I wasn't going to drive your royal British butt to school earlier than that. We leave in ten minutes. Go do something about those eyebrows of yours. What if they're contagious? Oh god, they can't ruin my face!" To avoid any more rambling, Arthur quickly got out of the bed and went into the bathroom to clean himself up a little.

The drive to school was fairly short, comparing how this was by car and Arthur usually went with the bus or by foot. They went separate ways in the school, and Arthur was just in time for history. He sat down next to Kiku, who saw that Arthur was in a bad mood, and decided to leave him alone. That's probably why Arthur liked Kiku too.

He scanned the class, his eyes meeting the blue eyes of Alfred almost immediately. Alfred grinned sheepishly, and Arthur glared at him harshly, turning around. He opted not to pay him any attention today, and was halfway through the class when his mobile phone buzzed in his pocket. He frowned and checked it quickly.

**From: The Hero!  
10:01 A.M.**

**I thght hangovers ddnt last 4 long?**

That prat!

**To: The Hero!  
10:02 A.M.**

**I will ignore you if you continue to misuse the English language. And is that supposed to mean something? **

He pressed send and pushed his phone back into his jeans, turning his head slightly and catching Alfred's amused gaze. He shot him another glare and straightened, trying to focus on the book in front of him. Hadn't they had enough of this subject already? You can only talk about the second world war for so long.

There was another buzz, and he reluctantly checked his phone.

**From: The Hero!  
10:04 A.M.**

**I apologize, good sir, what I meant to ask is: I thought hangovers only lasted for one morning? You look chagrin. Even more so than usual.**

He ignored it.

**From: The Hero!  
10:05 A.M.**

Dude I can see you ignoring me, not cool.

Arthur was slightly amused at the last one, and pointedly decided not to respond to the last one either. He made a show of putting his mobile phone back into his pocket, knowing Alfred was watching him.

At the end of the class, Arthur tried to make haste in leaving the classroom, but the overzealous American was still faster than him. "Hey Artie!"

"It's _Arthur, _twat."

"Artie, Arthur. I wanna compare timetables!" Alfred said with a big grin, his own slip of paper already in his hand. Arthur frowned, did he even have his timetable? He memorized it at the beginning of the year. Instead of searching for it, Arthur sighed and yanked the piece of paper out of the other's hands.

"I don't know why. We have history, chemistry, physics, algebra, social sciences, and English together. Wait, you have Technology Education _and _programming? I'm surprised you don't have football or baseball or something overly boyish like that, with a body like yours." Arthur realized what he said, and blushed in embarrassment, ready throw out some insult.

"I did have football actually.. but I decided I might as well put more time into my studies. Besides, I go to the gym every now and then!" He said cheerfully, a red tinge painting his cheeks. Arthur scowled when he realized girls would fawn over that blush, whereas Arthur just looked like a lobster when he blushed. "And it kinda helps with all the great careers I want to choose from… might as well get all the knowledge I can get my hands on!"

"Careers?"

"Yeah, y'know, something heroic! I wanna work for NASA, but that's a far-fetched dream, so maybe a scientist or something…"

Arthur was momentarily stunned. This was still Alfred F. Jones, right? Naïve, innocent, blabbering idiot? And this guy had _two _electives, whereas Arthur only had Spanish as an elective. Not that he was saying he didn't think Alfred could do it… it just kind of surprised him. He'd expected him to play sports and be lazy about his schoolwork, but apparently he's pretty serious.

"You all right?" Alfred said, waving his hands in front of Arthur's face. "You're not down with a fever, right?" Arthur snapped out of his thoughts when Alfred's hand gently touched his forehead, and only then did he notice he was slightly warm. What the hell!

Arthur slapped the other's hand off. "Yeah, I'm fine. Come on, we have algebra." Alfred followed like an obedient puppy, rambling away about the weekend and a new game he bought, and how scary it was. He only paid half a mind to what the other was saying, until Alfred changed the subject.

"So when do you wanna go to see that movie?" He asked cheerfully as they entered the classroom. Arthur froze, before shrugging. "How about Thursday night?" Arthur didn't have anything to do on Thursday, and he couldn't make up something either, so he just nodded.

"Sounds like a plan."

"Great! I'll pick you up at… five? Sound good?"

Arthur's eyes twitched lightly. This sounded so much… like a date. Ugh, of course it was a date. Right? Arthur knew it was a date, but did Alfred knew? He seemed naïve enough to not know. Making sure no one was actually eavesdropping in on them, Arthur glanced at Alfred and frowned.

"You don't have to pick me up, you know."

"I want to!"

"People will think it's a date with how you're acting." Arthur replied calmly, his mind racing as to figuring out what Alfred was thinking. Alfred only smiled sheepishly.

"Oh… you don't like that?"

The question was so simple and hesitant, that Arthur couldn't do anything but shake his head. Damn those blue eyes. Normally something like that didn't work, but Alfred just nailed the kicked-puppy look. "Is it a date?"

"Only if you want to be." Alfred eventually offered, a bright smile on his face and his cheeks tinged a deeper red now. Arthur wondered why this was going so easy. It wasn't supposed to go this easy, and it certainly wasn't supposed to make Arthur feel relieved or happy that it was going this easy! Arthur didn't reply because the teacher walked in and told them to take their seats, but as he glanced forward to where Alfred sat, he met the blue eyes cheerfully glancing back at him.

On Wednesday evening, Arthur finally decided to show up for a family dinner, figuring he'd escape the house in the weekend anyway. His mother took his showing up as an offer of peace, and neither spoke of the incident that happened on Sunday. She probably thought he was going to stay home too, but boy, was she going to be disappointed. It would be better if he wasn't here after all.

"Do you have any plans this weekend?" His mother asked him, and Arthur felt a twinge of anger that she really did expect him to stay home, but that she was kind of enough to let him go out for a party or something if he wanted to. Arthur's fingers tightened around his spoon, but he shrugged.

"I've got a date tomorrow." He decided on randomly throwing out, and both his parents and Peter looked up in surprise. Hell, it wasn't _that _strange, was it? He went on loads of dates! …Okay, maybe not. That's mostly because he wasn't very comfortable with people, but whatever.

His mother smiled widely. "Oh, how nice! Who's the lucky girl?" Oh, right. Arthur wondered if he should tell them it's very much not a girl. But that would be a little too direct, wouldn't it? He had to break it on another moment, when his parents thought he was getting serious with this_ girl_, and got excited for it, and _then,_ then he had to tell them it's actually a guy. It was going to be one hell of a night when it'd happen. "How old is she? Is she from your school?"

"One of my classmates, yeah. Sixteen." He figured Alfred was sixteen. He was in the same year as him, and he heard him brag about his birthday being on some kind of special American day, which was probably Fourth of July. Arthur loved his homeland, and therefore did not participate in holidays like that. Although he had to admit Gilbert always threw one awesome party around that time.

His father nodded approvingly while his mother gushed about how fun dates were and, were they going to the movies? And dinner? Arthur just nodded, preferring to keep silent from there on, ignoring Peter's bantering over how 'a stupid guy like Arthur doesn't get dates'. Peter later told that he was going to one of his friends after school tomorrow. That was just perfect. No one would be around to see Alfred picking Arthur up. He'd have to keep that in mind of who would be home whenever this would happen again. Ugh, did he seriously already thought of second dates?

He didn't see Alfred until one of his last periods on Thursday. Alfred sat down next to him, ignoring the scandalized cry of betrayal from Francis, who just sought up Matthew in return. Arthur snickered when the American first followed Francis with his eyes, and looked at him and Matthew. When the Brit next to him shuffled about, he was distracted again.

"You're not chickening out on me, are you?"

"Why would I do that?"

"You've been pretty much ignoring me." Alfred said with a laugh, motioning to his phone on the desk. Arthur rolled his eyes, not offering a response, and Alfred dropped the matter just as easily. Which was actually kind of likeable, he wasn't too nosy, but he was curious enough to make Arthur feel a bit wanted.

"I do hope you don't plan on taking me to some preposterous place, such as McDonalds. Then you can count on me ignoring you."

Alfred chuckled. "Dude, you sound so old. Preposterous? Seriously? And no, we're not going to McDonalds. There's this small Italian place nearby the cinema, and Lovino told me you knew it." Lovino? Arthur scanned his mind. Antonio's boyfriend. He did go there once with Francis, Antonio, Ludwig and Gilbert. "I kinda wanted to play safe.. what do you think?"

"It's…good enough I guess." Arthur offered eventually, wondering why he was so warm again. Perhaps he should open a window, lord knows how the teachers never properly air the classrooms. Alfred nodded and turned around to get his books after that, leaning back while listening to the teacher drone on about something. Arthur wanted to pay attention, he really did! But somehow the guy next to him just distracted him with every damned movement! Arthur wondered what kind of music Alfred liked. Was he a pasta or a pizza guy? Why the fuck didn't he just ask? Why was he behaving like a girl? Arthur groaned, slumping on his desk and getting a rather strange, questioning glance from Alfred, but he ignored it.

"What time are you out?" Alfred whispered, and the Brit straightened, thinking. He had one more period after this… normally two, but his Spanish teacher was sick, and today she was on leave.

"After next period. Why?"

"I don't know, we could just, hang out after school. Go the park or mall or whatever, grab dinner and watch the movie."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. He was actually rather against the idea. Not because he didn't like those places – too crowded – but also because he needed to mentally prepare for a bloody date. Didn't Alfred want time for himself too, before a date? Or perhaps Arthur should take Francis on for those socializing lessons, perhaps it wasn't Alfred who was doing it wrong, but he himself. It didn't matter, actually.

"I… kind of… need to do something at home." Arthur said, lamely, clearly faking an excuse. If Alfred saw through it (of course he did, even he wasn't that stupid), he didn't show it, and he merely shrugged.

"Ah, too bad. I'll just pick you up at five then."

Of course Arthur didn't have anything to do at home. Well, he could do some chores, but nobody would scold him if he didn't do them. He'd usually do them anyway, but whatever. He just wanted to be alone before he went out. The idea of the entire evening out with Alfred, overly enthusiastic, happy Alfred, kind of scared him off a little.

By the time he got home and five rolled around, he hadn't calmed down in the slightest. Damn, he was probably even more agitated than normal. He hoped Alfred wouldn't mind the occasional snap or insult. He never seemed to do so, and while Arthur normally tried to keep himself in check, he wondered if it was going to work tonight. Thank god for the movie. He could act like one of those pricks who didn't want to talk during a movie. He'd jumped once the doorbell rang, surprised Alfred actually took the trouble to rang the doorbell instead of honking, and darted out of his room, leaving it in the disarray he put it while finding something suitable to wear, and nearly collided with the other when he opened the door.

"Woah, steady." Alfred said with a laugh, holding Arthur's shoulder to prevent a collision. Arthur breathed out and muttered a 'whatever' – he could do this, calm down, there was nothing wrong with this, he wanted this, he needed this for his plan. Alfred had already turned around to walk over to his car, and Arthur quickly followed, dropping into the familiar leather seat.

He wasn't prepared for this at all, but he supposed that's how dates were supposed to go. He just wondered if this was going where he needed it to go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The ride to the restaurant had been incredibly awkward, and Arthur felt as if he could actually, however cliché it sounded, cut the tension with a knife. They started off randomly, conversing about school, but Arthur couldn't get the rock out of his throat and by the looks of it, Alfred was pretty nervous.

It wasn't until at the restaurant, that the American swallowed down his nerve before Arthur could, and chuckled. "Man, why the hell am I so nervous?" He said, smiling warmly at the other and Arthur tried to think of a witty comeback. "I'm sorry. I'm not very good… at this. You know, a date."

"With a guy?" Was the first thing came to Arthur's mind, and he wondered how Alfred would react. The other boy laughed and scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah, but just a date in general. It's so… official or something." He averted his eyes for a moment, and Arthur finally got rid of the nervous feeling by seeing the other at a loss for words. He could do this, he had to pretend he was better at this, more experienced.

"Relax, it's nothing special."

He clearly saw the disagreement in the other's eyes, and waited for it to be said so he could fire an insult or two, but Alfred held it in, instead trying to make normal conversation. "When did you move to America?" Arthur waited, because the waitress just came for their orders, before responding.

"Seven years ago." He counted the years back. He'd been nine years old, and roughly pulled out of the environment he knew, because his father had been offered a better job in America. His mother had been pregnant with Peter, and Colin had already moved out of the house.

"All right… where did you live? In England? I assume you're from England, posh accent and all."

Arthur glared. "I _could _just ignore that, you twat, but fine. I lived in Leicester." He knew the other had never heard of it when Alfred nodded and didn't ask any further. Arthur sighed, imagining his old house. They had a fairly big garden, in which he could often hide when Colin or Aiden were after him.

"Tell me about it!"

"Why?"

"I just wanna know…" Alfred resembled a kicked puppy again, and Arthur glared. Damn it, that wasn't going to work this time. Besides, his life in England hadn't been very interesting, but he generally just wanted to go back to England, not per se Leicester. "I've lived on a ranch, y'know, until I was eleven!" Now that was a lot more interesting than his boring life in a family house. Alfred took Arthur's silence as a cue to continue. "It wasn't very big though. I was told my family used to herd sheep for the shaving business and all, but in the end dad got another job and we only had a few horses." He looked a little nostalgic at the memory, and Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes. "I kinda had this really sweet black mare, who I took care of. She was the best! Unfortunately we had to sell them, cause they got too expensive, and we moved here."

Arthur listened to Alfred babble more and more while they ate, about his old life, and eventually about random things, and about the movie too. He went into a nerd-frenzy again, and Arthur reluctantly sat through it. He had to admit, somewhere, it had its charm. Alfred was just really boyish when he was off being excited over _superheroes. _He even slipped about being a hero himself, and had blushed in embarrassment. That embarrassment was immediately forgotten when Arthur told him to elaborate.

A hero-complex. Just how… Arthur wasn't even going to categorize this. Albeit he did chuckle over the idea of Alfred in a cheap superman costume. Oh, he probably did that all the time as a kid. He can totally imagine his mother being all proud of him when he would burst into the room in his little costume, on Halloween or on a random day. Oh shit, that was actually kind of cute.

"Now that we've established I'm addicted to comics and the like… what do you like?" The question caught Arthur off guard and he stared at the other, trying to make something cool up. People never really asked that of him. He supposed he could say partying and drinking. "And don't say getting yourself wasted and smoking because that's totally not the truth."

"Tsk, wanker." Arthur grumbled. "What do you think I like, then?"

Alfred smiled widely. "You're English, so you probably love tea-time with a scone or something. And you're into literature, am I right? Kiku told me you were really good in literature classes. You don't look like you play sports, perhaps an instrument? You might game a little, but I don't think you do, seeing as you have this 'You're unworthy of me' look in your eyes whenever I tell you about a game." He finished with a laugh, as if he weren't bothered at all by the last part. The bad part was, was that he was pretty right-on on his assumptions.

"You're an idiot." Arthur settled on saying. "I did… play the piano while I was younger." He admitted, giving the other a piece of what he had correct. "But I don't do so anymore."

"Why not?"

"We used to have a piano back in England, and now we don't. And I don't have the money." Arthur said curtly, his eyes challenging Alfred to ask more. He didn't, fortunately. The rest of the dinner, Alfred didn't mention their earlier subjects anymore, and instead they simply talked about other people in the restaurant and the party of last weekend. Arthur was somewhat relieved they split the bill (he would have been choked up again if Alfred would pay), and almost felt satisfied when they arrived at the cinema.

"I'm paying." Alfred said, confidently. The relief was instantly shattered.

"No! I want to pay my own ticket."

"We already split the bill! I'm paying, I'm taking you out after all."

"It was my suggestion we went to the movie, bloody Yankee, if anything, I should pay."

Arthur was suddenly struck with why Alfred seemed so fierce in this; he did say something about not having the money. The idiot! A piano was bloody expensive, that meant in no way that he didn't have money! Well, he didn't have a lot of money, but Alfred didn't needed to know that! He went on protesting, and even tried to shove the American away, but Alfred had just laughed and restrained him by firmly putting an arm around his shoulders, paying for the tickets quickly.

"You bloody twat, I hate you." Arthur said, shoving him away and slipping underneath his arms. Alfred laughed, going to the food court, and Arthur realized with a pang that he was probably going to buy him something too. Well, _fine._ If he wanted to spend so much money, Arthur didn't care. He crossed his arms and tried to remain angry-looking, but it was damn hard when Alfred returned, practically juggling at least five different things in his arms. He wondered if he'd get away with not taking anything off the poor American, but he didn't want to seem _too _mean.

"I didn't know what you wanted, so-"

"Are you seriously going to eat all that? Didn't you eat at the restaurant?" Arthur asked, incredulously, as he grabbed the sodas and the large popcorn out of the other's arms.

"Of course I did, I'm just… I'm a big boy, I don't need to defend myself to the likes of you!" Alfred said, sticking out his tongue. Surprisingly, something in Arthur found this highly amusing, and Arthur let out a laugh. As soon as he noticed he did, though, he stopped and frowned, mostly at himself. Alfred just stared at him. "Dude. Did you just, like, laughed? A real laugh?"

"Shut up."

"Holy shit, you totally did! That's the first time you actually _laughed_!"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Alfred blushed, a sweet smile on his face. "Sorry. It's just… Man, this is going to sound lame."

"Then don't say it." Arthur warned, knowing what was coming. He could practically see it because of the blush, and he didn't want to hear something that embarrassing. Alfred ignored him though, smiling a bit wider.

"You look… I don't know, kinda beautiful when you laugh like that. You should do it more often."

_Beautiful?_

For real? He wasn't a girl, damn it! Arthur didn't worthy him with any response but a scoff, and just turned around to walk into the room for the movie. Alfred immediately led them somewhere in the back, and Arthur tried not to imagine why, because he was sure he was going to hate the reason. He simply sat down, shoved the popcorn and soda back onto the American's lap, and sipped his own soda slowly. He could feel the other looking at him, but Arthur ignored him pretty well, and Alfred had apparently decided to just leave it be.

The movie wasn't all that bad, but as Arthur said before, he just wasn't that much into the superhero genre. It was kind of interesting to watch Alfred watch the movie though. Even though he claimed he had seen it before, he was still sucked into it with big, wide eyes, like a child, and before Arthur knew it, he had wolfed down half of all the snacks. Arthur bit his lip to refrain from chuckling. It was somehow endearing, but if he chuckled or whatever, he'd draw Alfred's attention and the moment would be ruined, so he averted his eyes back to the screen.

"As bad as you expected?" he suddenly heard Alfred whisper to him. He smiled, eyeing the American. Even though it was dark, Arthur could still see the bright blue of the other's eyes. He shook his head and Alfred smiled delightfully, nodding, and turning back to the screen. Arthur wondered… he carefully, subtly, slid his arm on the armrest. Slow enough, he eventually moved his hand a little closer, and he watched Alfred out of the corner of his eyes. It seemed to work perfectly, because he accidentally slipped and bumped into him, and Alfred's response was to just grab the other's hand and intertwine their fingers. If Arthur didn't know better, Alfred knew exactly of his plans and was working along.

Or he was just…

Arthur didn't decide to humour himself with the idea. He should be glad it was going easy, and that Alfred wasn't completely unlikeable.

At the end of the movie, Alfred resumed his earlier nerd-rant over the superhero they had been watching, and this time, Arthur decided to pay a little attention. He was more distracted by the way Alfred _still_ held his hand, but that was good, that was improvement. He nodded sometimes and tried to smile when it was appropriate, and the American looked even more cheerful than before, if that was possible.

"So, eh…" Alfred started once they were back in the car, Arthur's hand feeling strangely cold. He quickly folded them on his lap, trying to forget about it. "Did…Did you have fun?"

"Of course." The Brit replied softly, pulling his coat around him a little tighter. Alfred already put the heat on quickly. "Did you?"

Alfred laughed nervously again, though it held more confidence than that it did at the beginning of the evening. Arthur looked at the clock; half past twelve. His parents were most likely already sleeping, good. "Totally!"

Arthur smiled gently, pleased to see Alfred's cheeks tinged red again. He was quite adorable, he could see why the girls were always talking about him. Arthur shook his head to clear himself from those thoughts.

"I was just, y'know, kinda afraid to screw it up." Alfred admitted sheepishly, and Arthur looked at him surprised. He knew he was nervous, but surely Alfred had done this enough, right? Fortunately, Alfred answered the unspoken question. "I mean, I know how it works and I know you're supposed to be nervous… but it's different with you." Oh shit, this was going to get awkward again, wasn't it?

"Why?" Arthur choked out, his gaze set on the road in front of them.

Alfred didn't reply at first, before nervously putting some words together. "I don't know… it's… you're different. Not the bad way! I mean, I just kinda get the feeling I need to impress you. Oh man, this sounds so weird. Sorry. Don't be weirded out." He wasn't, not really. "Y'know…" He didn't know if it was very smart of Alfred to continue, but Arthur didn't want him to stop, so he just kept silent. "Ever since ninth grade, I kinda wanted to ask you out, you know."

Arthur's head whipped around. What? What the bloody hell? This wasn't part of his plan. No, this wasn't going the right direction. Abort mission. Abort the bloody mission!

"Or well, just wanted to hang out with you. I wasn't so sure of… anyway, it's a little unreal that I'm actually able to talk so comfortably with you. I always thought you were so reserved and cool, and.. ah forget it." Alfred said, frowning. "Sorry."

Arthur could practically _hear _Alfred thinking 'Dammit, fuck!', and he wondered what the hell he was supposed to say. He could say something really bloody cheesy like 'me too', but honestly, Arthur had _heard_ of Jones, and sure he had _noticed _him because of his behaviour, but Arthur had never given him more thought than that. He felt kind of bad, even though it was ridiculous. He wasn't good in these kind of situations. He couldn't comfort, or assure someone it wasn't weird, and that it was okay. This wasn't going well. Arthur internally winced, would physical contact say the words he couldn't make up? He reluctantly stretched out his hand and grabbed Alfred's free hand. "…It's okay. I don't mind."

He literally felt Alfred relaxing through their hands, and immediately relaxed himself too. Nice save. "Let's just… not try and be so awkward next time." The moment he said it, Alfred broke out into a huge grin. Arthur rolled his eyes; of course the proposition of a next time would rile him up. They remained silent for the rest of the ride back to Arthur's place, and he was kind of afraid of what was going to happen after this, at school and all. But he had to man up, he was the one who initiated this after all. As he had expected, Alfred jumped out of the car too, as soon as they got to Arthur's house. Arthur was a bit jittery about it, but pretended he didn't mind.

At the door though, he was a little bit at loss of what to do. Should he thank him or something? That seemed so cliché. "I…" He trailed off, averting his eyes, scowling. The hell was he supposed to say.

Alfred chuckled. "I had a good time, too!" Arthur sighed with relief when the other answered for him, again, and looked at the door. He should just go in now. Yes. Was Alfred closer than before? Oh god. Kissing wasn't a first-date rule, was it? Wasn't that supposed to happen on the third? Why did he even care? He wasn't going to take this as far as kissing. Right? Only to dates. He wasn't even sure he was gay! Alfred was definitely coming closer.

"Your jacket!" Arthur practically squealed, and he cursed himself for sounding like a girl. He noticed that he himself had unintentionally leaned in closer too and _god he was giving him the wrong idea_.

"Huh?"

"Your bomber jacket! Wait!" Arthur opened the door and fled inside, up the stairs and retrieved the jacket from his room. He returned, trying not to wake anyone, and while walking down the stairs he had noticed Alfred had taken the liberty of taking a few steps into the hallway, and was looking at the pictures on the wall. Arthur felt his ears burn with embarrassment when he realized there we pictures of him as a kid on there. He'd have to have them removed. "Forget you ever saw those."

Alfred turned around and laughed. "No way, dude! Cute outfit." He said, clearly mentioning the one of a kid Arthur dressed up as Sherlock Holmes. Oh, kill him now. Arthur scowled, walked over, and brutally snatched the picture of the wall. He shoved the bomber jacket in the other's arms. "Thanks. So eh… see you tomorrow?"

"…Yes." Arthur hurried to show him out, and he was still smiling that stupid, warm smile. Thank god he had remembered about the jacket. Alfred threw it into the car and made a final salute, winking and disappearing into the car as well. Arthur, deciding not to be a crushing girl, slammed the door shut as soon as he heard the engine rev.

As soon as he was lying in bed, trying to get some sleep before the alarm would go for another day of school, he heard his mobile buzz again.

**From: The Hero!  
12:54 A.M.**

**I really liked it! Goodnight! :D**

Arthur felt his face heat up, and threw the mobile back on the nightstand with a groan. Twitching around for a few minutes, before he sighed and grabbed the offending thing again.

**To: The Hero!  
01:00 A.M.**

**Shut up and go to sleep, twat.**

**From: The Hero!  
01:03 A.M.**

**Is it creepy I can totally hear you and your British accent in my head? And you didn't even notice I was typing correctly! **

Arthur sighed. The idiot just didn't give up, did he?

**To: The Hero!  
01:04 A.M.**

**I'm ignoring you now. **

**From: The Hero!  
01:04 A.M.**

**Not cool! Sweet dreams ;)**

* * *

**The date~**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Despite the plan he had so carefully tried to organize, and the fun he had to admit he had had that evening, Arthur had done his best to completely avoid and ignore Alfred. He didn't even know he was doing it, or why he was doing it, he just did it automatically. Arthur didn't acknowledge it until around Thursday, when his phone wasn't beeping with incoming text messages in the evening anymore. Only then did he suddenly realize, that he had been avoiding the other.

In classes, he had made the minimal talk, and he had scarcely replied to the text-messages, often with short words. He panicked, that night, wondering what he was doing and _why _he was doing it, before slapping himself multiple times. He was _such_ a bloody girl. He had to make his mind up. Either he wanted to continue with this, and… ugh, make Alfred… his boyfriend, or something close to that, or he had to stop. Because just friends wouldn't prove to work at all. He already knew that. There was too much tension for Arthur not to insult him, and Alfred not to mindlessly, innocently flirt with him.

Arthur had decided to wait until Friday evening, but he hadn't had any texts at all, and he only had one class with Alfred, one where he sat in the back and Alfred sat in the front. Alfred had smiled, and said 'hi', but that was that. And Arthur tried to pretend he didn't care, thought he'd just start texting and slip into a more comfortable routine with the American again, but _bloody hell,_ he was so bloody annoyed! It was even worse than when Francis was irritating him! Arthur was agitated, he was snappy, and oh lord, he didn't _stop _looking at his cell phone.

"Send him a text." Francis said, not looking away from the horrible, sappy romantic movie playing on the television. It was French, to top. Arthur scowled.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh for Christ's sake." Francis practically leaped himself at the Brit, and Arthur tried fighting him, but he was overpowered. His cell phone was snatched away and Francis kept the Brit at bay with one out-stretched leg.

**To: The Hero!  
08:34 P.M.**

**I was acting like a prick. I had a bad week. Sorry. **

"What the hell!" Arthur screeched when he got his cell phone back. "It's none of your business! And I'm not a prick!"

Francis pouted. "Arthur, let me give you some advice from the master of _l'amour._ You want Alfred to be your boyfriend so you can annoy your parents. Though I doubt that's the only reason…" He added the last part in a whisper, before continuing. "And he's acts like a lovesick puppy when he's around you, it's almost endearing. Besides, you _want_ him in _some _way because you _keep _on staring at your cell phone or at him in class. Stop acting like a fucking As the World Turns character and just smother him with British love."

"You are a nutcase."

**From: The Hero!  
08:39 P.M.**

**It's cool dude! I'm sorry for my acting too, guess I was a little clingy, lol!**

Arthur sighed, he wondered why Alfred was always this easy. He felt a little guilty, he knew that somewhere, Alfred had taken it personal. Well, if they would both just act like it never happened..

**To: The Hero!  
08:40 P.M.**

**You weren't clingy, you didn't do anything wrong.**

**To: The Hero!  
08:41 P.M.**

**Do you want to go to that horrible movie about some humans going to an alien planet with me?**

Arthur pressed send before he could regret it. If this wasn't enough of a peace offering, then he didn't know what was. The reply was instantaneous, and so was Francis his grin when he smiled slightly at the happy confirmation.

"_Mon dieu, _are you blushing?" Francis exclaimed while Arthur read the text again, and Arthur scowled. The stupid frog, he should've just come here tomorrow instead of today. Although he had better chances of avoiding his brother this way. His mother might have stalled him long enough tomorrow.

"I'm not! Get lost, Rapunzel!" He wasn't scowling though. After Francis flamboyantly pointed that fact out to him, he tried having a serious conversation with the Brit, but Arthur wasn't cooperating very well. After Arthur gave him a well-measured punch in the face, the Frenchman went back to watching his terrible movie.

**From: The Hero! **

**09:12 P.M.**

**I don't wanna sound lame… but you aren't mad at me, are you? **

He stared at the screen and bit his lip. He felt pretty guilty, even though he was trying not to. Alfred was an idiot for taking it personally. Actually, Alfred was pretty much always an idiot. He was loud, he acted like a retard while he very much wasn't, he was convinced Arthur was nice, he was obsessed with superheroes… oh, who was he fooling?

**To: The Hero!**

**09:18 P.M.**

**I'm not mad, Alfred. Don't be worried. **

"Arthur, how serious are you with this? Is this still about your parents, or something else?" The serious tone in the other's voice made Arthur mentally flinch, and he glared even harder.

"Of course it is still about that! Do you think I'd fall for someone like Alfred Jones? I'm not even… oh forget it."

"I never said anything about _falling _for him!" The Frenchman said smugly, and Arthur blushed even brighter. Why was he blushing? He put his hands on his cheeks, fiercely rubbing them. It already said enough for Francis though, and the other laughed. Perhaps he _should _spend less time with the Frenchman, Francis seemed to know him better than he himself did. "It doesn't matter, Arthur. So what? Half our school is practically gay."

"I'm not falling for him. Drop it, snail slurper." Arthur kept on, stubborn. Besides, he didn't fall in love. He had never fallen in love, had might felt some attraction to some people but had never fallen for someone. And it sure as hell wasn't going to be changed by someone like Alfred F. Jones.

Francis sighed. "Arthur, I have no idea what you are doing. You want to get him as a boyfriend to trick your parents, right? Why in the world's name are you working against your own plan?"

"I'm not."

"You're ignoring him, calling him names, acting your annoying self to him… he's not going to be a lovesick puppy forever you know. He'll give up, too."

Arthur fell silent. Somewhere, he knew that Francis was right. He had been pushing Alfred away while that hadn't been his first plan. But he wasn't good at this kind of stuff, wasn't he doing it good enough? He was already nicer than he was to other people. "Whatever." He mumbled, though he knew Francis had already seen through him. At least the frog was right about something; Arthur had to do something, or Alfred was definitely going to lose interest, and that idea made Arthur twitchy.

The day after, Arthur had turned off his cell phone. As much as he hated not being able to read whatever people (Alfred) sent him, he didn't want his mother calling him constantly. To avoid lazing around the house all day, Francis had dragged him out and into the car later in the afternoon, claiming they were going to one of _petite_ Mathieu's games. Arthur had been quite surprised when they arrived at the ice hockey match Matthew was in. It just didn't seem like Matthew played any sports. Although Arthur knew that Alfred and the other were twins, he had genuinely believed Alfred would be some sort of idiot jock, and Matthew would be a silent genius. Neither was true; Alfred did better in school that the other, and Matthew was quite into ice hockey, it seemed. And the sport seemed quite aggressive too.

He supposed it was a good enough distraction, but Arthur hated sports, in general. "I don't see the fun in this." He said dully to Francis, who was cheering for Matthew like an enthusiastic wife. Jesus, the two had been dating for what, two weeks? Francis was about to make some sort of snappy remark back at him, when he froze and smiled widely.

"I'm going to get drinks, _oui?_"

"You just did that, you wanker, what are you-"

"Artie!" Oh bloody hell. That damn frog. Arthur whipped around and met the energetic blue eyes that belonged to no one other than Alfred, and said boy grinned widely. Arthur was surprised he was here, but then he felt like he could smack himself; Alfred and Matthew were brothers, of course Alfred would go to his match. "I didn't know you were here!" The 'why' was subtle enough, and Arthur scoffed.

"Francis dragged me along. I'm not usually into these kind of things."

"Yeah, me neither, but Mattie wants me to drive him and stuff."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "That's kind of rude. You should be cheering him on, you know. You're his brother."

Alfred laughed. "Dude, Mattie totally doesn't need my support. Did you see him? He turns into a monster when he's on the ice! It's freaky as hell. Besides, I like playing sports, but I hate watching them. So why are you with Francis?"

He wouldn't have noticed it, if he hadn't paid attention, but there was something in the other's voice when he said the last part, something, that made Arthur's eyes widen just a little. Did he hear that correct? He'd dub it as jealousy, but that's a little ridiculous, right? It's _Francis_, after all, and he was dating Matthew, so Alfred didn't have to go all jealous girlfriend on him. Arthur frowned.

"Because." He said, stubbornly. Alfred knew bloody well that Arthur and Francis were good friends, despite all the bickering, name-calling, verbal (and sometimes physical) abuse and insulting that went on between them. He thought he caught a glimpse of anger in the other's eyes, at his blunt and rude response. It got him excited, like usual, for a fight. Arthur was already packed and ready, but Alfred dropped it. Again. Why didn't the American ever took the bait?

"So you want to get out of here?"

"Bloody hell yes." Arthur admitted, quickly following the other outside of the arena. It was cold out, but Arthur had taken precaution for once, and as he tied his scarf around his neck again he sighed at the comfortable warmth it provided. They found a bench outside pretty quick, and sat down on it. Arthur kept silent, wondering if Alfred was upset or not about the past week. He couldn't help it, even though he didn't wanted it.

"You all right?"

"Of course. Why?"

"Because you haven't called me an idiot yet. And you didn't correct me when I said Artie, Artie."

"It's _Arthur_, idiot." At his response, Alfred laughed, and Arthur managed to fight off a smile. Good. This one sounded a lot more natural. "I'm… I don't know."

"You can tell me, y'know. I'm trustworthy." Alfred looked at him, and for a moment, Arthur wanted to forget about his childish plan to upset his parents, and about his mentality against falling for someone, especially a guy, and wanted to just fuck the whole idea, and crawl up to the warm American, and tell him what was bothering him. Tell him, that Alfred was bothering him, but no, Alfred had to _continue_ bothering him.

He didn't though, because he realized Francis was right, and he was falling for the American. It wasn't even a big realization, and it didn't even surprise him or shocked him. He just decided to accept it, despite the anger he felt towards how he hadn't been in control of the situation. He blamed it on Alfred. Alfred with his smiles, and laughter, and jokes, and car, and bomber jacket, and his superhero fetish. It was impossible not to fall on him, once Alfred's attention had been showered onto himself. He should've expected it. It was too easy, finding someone who could fill a little job like upsetting his parents. It went too easy, and now Arthur had to suffer the consequences.

Alfred grabbed his hand, and squeezed it, and Arthur didn't move away or call him names. "Hey… you really all right?" His voice was a lot softer now, and he looked at Arthur curiously.

"My brother is coming home this weekend." Arthur blurted out. It was as if his acceptance of the situation, made some of the pride flew out of the window. "I absolutely hate him. He's done nothing but bully me since I was a kid. He threw me into a bloody lake, while I couldn't swim! I hate swimming because of him. And he's coming today. I've been hiding at Francis his place." Alfred didn't reply, just sat there, his hand still warm and large on his. "And I hate my mother for it, too. She honestly thinks that it's just a show of affection. I've got pushed down the stairs, and she told me not to yell at him so much. He's got drunk once, and locked me up in the closet for an entire day, and then she just told me I was probably confusing a few minutes with an entire day because I was scared." Arthur breathed in. This was easier than he thought. "And now that only Peter and I still live at the house, she's so bloody _sweet_, and I can't stand it."

Alfred smiled, shuffling closer. Arthur wanted to jerk away, but he opted not to, because really, the American's warmth wasn't unwelcome. "Brothers can be quite a pain in the ass, right? It's probably for the better you're staying somewhere else though. And just for the record; I think he does care for you, because you're brothers… but you know how brothers treat each other. And English people probably do it worse."

Arthur scoffed. "Don't patronize me."

"You know, my parents got divorced after we sold that ranch. Ma took Mattie with her for a few years, and I was left with dad. I didn't really speak with Mattie in that period. Ma got ill, though, and Mattie was send to live with me and dad again." He said. Arthur didn't exactly know why he was telling it, but it was comforting to listen. "But Mattie's kept ma's name after all. That's why he's Williams and I'm Jones. It kinda hurts, that he wants her name and not dad's name, since I do have dad's name. We're twins, but people often think we're cousins or something."

They were silent again, and Arthur slowly relaxed. He could handle this, he thought. Alfred wasn't a bad person. And if he had to have some childish crush, he'd rather it be on someone like him, than someone like Gilbert or Braginski's freak sister or something.

"Is she very sick?"

"Nah. She's just kinda weak. But she won't die or anything."

Arthur nodded, wondering what it would be like to have divorced parents. As far as he knew, his parents never even had a fight. They argued sometimes, but never anything seriously. He'd know, because Peter automatically came to Arthur when he thought something was wrong, whenever mother acted strange, or when dad was on a business trip. Or actually, he thought, Peter had stopped doing that since a while. Perhaps he was too old for that, now. He was eight, almost nine, after all. He leaned into Alfred slowly, wondering if the other would let him. He knew, that he would, but now that he was viewing the whole situation differently, it made Arthur somewhat unsure. He was, as Francis put it, unsure as a virgin, literally. He never had a girlfriend or… boyfriend, had never even thought of it. He read enough novels to know a bit about romance, of course, but everyday life wasn't the same as the life of Cathy and Rochester. That would be a bit strange.

"I don't know how to do this." Arthur suddenly said. He knew he was being vague, but he had a thought somewhere, that said Alfred would understand. Alfred didn't reply for a while, but eventually he chuckled a little. He could more feel than hear it.

"I'll show you."

Somehow, through the irrationality and the angry comments and snarky, proud behaviour, Arthur allowed himself to forget about any plans he had before, and just simply smile and nod.

* * *

**I like to think that somehow this is the actual beginning of everything lolol. But I don't know if I can trust my thoughts on it. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter~ **


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry for the empty text last chapter, I fixed it as soon as I read the reviews :) Sorry, and thankyou all for reviewing! _

**Chapter 7**

The next month after that went by relatively peacefully. Arthur had gone back home the Wednesday after, and Colin had already left, which was a plus-side. Nothing at home changed, but at school there were changes. Large enough for Arthur (and half the school) to notice it, but not large enough for him to get legitimately irritated about it. This didn't mean he _wasn't _irritated, but Arthur was actually always annoyed by something, so he didn't blame the American on his foul mood.

Alfred was trying his best to charm him, and it was in some way, endearing. If not annoying, all right. Not sure how to go about this without seeming like an utter fool, Arthur simply let Alfred do whatever he wanted to. Which included carrying the books that Arthur couldn't fit into his bag, or holding and pulling open doors, or even _accompanying _him to the library. Arthur was still bewildered, that Alfred's record of staying silent was twenty minutes. Arthur was sure he wasn't doing very good himself, though, but Alfred didn't seem to mind. He had decided on keeping a closer eye on the American, and had figured out some things about him (he definitely didn't mean his smile when he looked at the Braginski kid, for example), and deduced that Alfred didn't mind the lack of Arthur's participation in… whatever this was.

He was sitting in the library, Alfred absentmindedly looking at a book (Arthur could feel eyes on him, though), that Alfred decided to break the silence by whispering. "You free tonight?"

Arthur glared at him. "You're not supposed to talk in a library. Keep quiet or I'll have you removed."

He was rewarded with a bright smile. "Dude, chillax. I'm whispering, everyone whispers."

"Chillax? _Chillax? _What kind of stupid word is that? It isn't even a word! It's not in the English dictionary! You Yankee!"

Alfred laughed. "You're so easy to rile up. Sssht, we're in a library." Arthur visibly deflated, not sure how to respond. The nerve of this guy!

"Some guy you are." Arthur said curtly. Another thing that had promptly changed after their talk on the bench, was that Alfred suddenly had comebacks. He didn't just laugh, or blush, or chuckled whenever Arthur insulted or snapped at him. He actually talked right back at him. And it was annoying Arthur real, real bad, but he knew that it'd be more annoying if the American would suddenly stop it. He had gotten used to it over the past few weeks. He was used to Alfred teasing him, because he knew Alfred wanted Arthur to react in the fierce way he did. He wondered if it was some sort of kink, and if it was, he was a little grossed out. But fine, Arthur could curse and stomp, and Alfred could laugh about it.

"Some girl you are." Alfred mimicked, sticking out his tongue.

"You bloody twat! Dare say that again! I swear, all of you Americans are idiots. I don't even know-" He was interrupted by a loud, clear 'ahem' by the library lady, and he immediately shut up. Damn it. He glared at Alfred and stood up, gathering his things. Alfred looked a little too happy with this, and he followed him out quickly.

"So, are you free tonight?" Alfred repeated, his arm brushing against Arthur's and _damn it, _he was so aware of every touch. "I wanna take you out."

"I damn sure hope we're not going to a horror movie."

"What? No, dude, like totally not!" Arthur chuckled a little. Last time they went to a horror movie – oh god, he wasn't even going to elaborate on that one. "It's actually this play in the art house. I know the art house usually sucks big time, but it's a play of Shakespeare, so I… y'know. Thought you might want to see it."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. Alfred hated the art house, hated anything that had something to do with decent culture, and he sure as hell didn't like Shakespeare. "We don't have to go, we can go see one of your-"

"No! We can go to the play. I'll pay. Pick you up at five? Or… we could, y'know, hang out after school. My place or something?"

His place? Arthur hadn't been officially invited yet (he ignored the subtle hints). It was a weird idea, but he guessed that after a month of doing… what they were doing currently, it would be logical. Curse it, they were practically dating, and Arthur had to get used to the word. He _wanted _this. "Eh… sure. I'm out one hour earlier though… so mind me going home first and you picking me up when you're out?"

Alfred gave him one of his megawatt smiles, and nodded. "Sure thing, dude!"

"Call me that again and I'll punch you, _dude._"

"Haha! You're cute when you're annoyed."

Arthur flustered and hit him on the shoulder. "Twat! Don't say things like that. Besides, you have to go to class, I _know, _so don't skip it and get lost." He scoffed, pushing Alfred into the direction of class. He himself had a free hour, and he was most likely going to spend it with Francis, unless the frog was lip locked with his little boyfriend.

Two hours later, he was at home, mentally preparing himself for Alfred's home. He sincerely hoped his parents weren't around. Would Matthew be there? _Oh god, _would Francis be there? Francis had been way to smug about how this was going. It wasn't even his business! He kept calling himself 'the ambassador of love', as well, all because he sent a text, and Arthur had been throttling him a lot more than usual. Arthur idly distracted himself by doing some mindless chores, such as doing the dishes and cleaning the mess Peter had left behind. He almost relaxed again, but it was in vain, as merely an hour later Alfred rang the doorbell. Arthur bolted out of the kitchen and opened the door, pushing past Alfred immediately to avoid asking him in. Alfred, used to that kind of behaviour by now, simply followed and got into the car as well. They didn't talk much, instead listened to the radio, until Alfred pulled up on the driveway of his house.

Arthur knew it'd be a big house. Bigger than his, in any case. Alfred certainly looked the part to have a family with a big house. He ignored it and got out of the car quickly, knowing Alfred always wanted to walk around and open it for him, the twat. He wasn't _that_ needy and that actually did border on the brim of ridiculous. "Home sweet home! My folks aren't home, and I think Mattie's at the Frenchy, so.." Arthur didn't have time to be relieved from it, because he realized he was all alone with Alfred. He calmed down reasonably fast though, knowing this was far better than a house filled with family members.

Inside the house though, the inevitable happened. Arthur and Alfred were both still standing in the hallway, Arthur awkwardly looking around and fiddling with his fingers. He was about to snap out of irritation, when Alfred laughed and went to the kitchen. "Tea, right? I think we got some Earl Grey… No milk and one sugar, right?" Arthur stuttered out a yes, embarrassed Alfred remembered all that. Holy cow, he didn't even know in the slightest how Alfred drank his coffee. With milk… right? Better pay attention.

Arthur looked around again. He noticed a cat or two lurking about the place, but they didn't really pay him any attention and instead just left the house through the kitchen door. There was also a really big television, which didn't surprise Arthur either. There were no game consoles, though, so he guessed Alfred had them up in his room. He wondered what his room was like. But he wasn't going up there, not yet. One thing that he also noticed, was that there were significantly less pictures of Matthew on the walls than that there were of Alfred. He wondered if that was because Matthew moved in later. He felt like he didn't really wanted to know it.

A few minutes later, Alfred pushed a cup of tea in his hands. "I hope it's something, since I don't know if I fit your British liking." Alfred joked, winking. Arthur scoffed, deciding against admitting he was to his perfectly to his liking, and instead used the cup to warm his hands slightly. "So, eh… the play starts in three hours. We could go out for dinner or make something here…" He was a little low on cash, and Arthur was feeling guilty for always letting Alfred pay.

"We could try make something here. But aren't your folks home by then?"

"Nope! Dad's in Europe for business and mom is going out with her girlfriends. I don't know about Mattie though, but I'll text him." He slowly manoeuvred the Brit into the living room, and they both sat on the couch, one of the cats practically leaping itself at Alfred. Arthur smiled (he wanted a cat, or a dog, or something like that), as Alfred fought the thing of carefully, before starting to rant like usual. His voice provided some comfort to Arthur – unlike others, Alfred would only ramble like this when he was comfortable. No need to be awkward, thus. Of course, Alfred would also ramble when he was nervous, but there would be a slight hesitation in his voice which was missing now.

"-but I stacked it away, it's not what I like anyway."

"Sorry, what did you say, love?" He choked on his tea once he realized what he said, but Alfred took it without a blink and simply repeated what he said, although there was a slightly bigger smile on his face.

"Ma gave me this big box with old novels, like Shakespeare, Hugo, Carroll, and some other old, smelly writers. I don't read that kinda stuff, so I don't know what to do with it."

A piece of Arthur's heart crumbled, and he put his tea down dramatically. "You don't _like _it? They're the best authors in the world! Their works are legendary! How can you not like them? It's blasphemy!"

Alfred grinned. "Yeah well, I'm an American, right? I just let them dust there, too. Perhaps I should just use them for a bonfire on the beach or something, that way we can spare money on wood-"

"You are absolutely mental! Lay one ill-intentioned finger on those books and I will _murder_ you!"

Alfred laughed loudly. "Oh come on, Artie, they're just books! Just paper with words on them."

"Precious words, mind you. Not everyone has the chance to read those books. I think I hate you a little now. How can you even _think_ of committing such a crime like that" He sniffed dramatically and Alfred feigned hurt.

"You'd hate me for not liking some books! You're in for one hell of a ride then!" He sang, and Arthur snorted.

"Uncultured brat."

They bickered for a good hour after that, Arthur knowing that bickering was probably the easiest way of conversing with Alfred. Fortunately, it was all playfully done. Arthur wasn't really irritated (well, not after Alfred promised not to damage the books), and Alfred had a huge grin on his face the entire time. Arthur allowed him to 'subtly' put his arm around his shoulders on the couch, although he had idiotically tensed up a little.

Right now, Arthur wasn't sure if this was going to turn out ridiculously amusing, or ridiculously disastrous. At least Alfred was having a good time, but Arthur wasn't very sure he was. He knew he was very close to smacking Alfred with the cooking pan, though.

"Dude! It's _partially_ black! How the hell did you manage, oh god, I can't, air, what is air!" Alfred clutched his sides, practically tearing up at seeing how Arthur managed to burn soup. Okay, so, he wasn't the best cook at times! He could handle himself, but he never said he was a chef! Arthur bit the insides of his cheeks. He could just throw the soup all over Alfred, that would shut him up. After five minutes, Arthur lost his patience.

"Shut up! It's not that funny! Shut the hell up, or I'll kick you in the balls, you moronic, American, fat, uncultured wankstain! Plonker!"

The laughing stopped abruptly, and Alfred looked at him incredulously. "…_Plonker_?"

Almost immediately, the laughing returned just as obnoxious as before, and Arthur blushed at his British slang, stomping his feet on the ground. "Fuck this! I'm leaving if you don't stop being so stupid!" _That _did calm the American down a little, and Alfred tried to keep his chuckles in, a hand before his mouth.

"No, no! Artie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. We can cook something else… _I _can cook something else. You'll just sit there, and…. Pffffft _Plonker!_"

Arthur groaned in frustration when the American went at it again, and threw the spatula he was still holding on the ground. "Fuck you! Tosser!" He snapped, turning around and heading for the door. Alfred's chuckles were trying to be held in again, as Alfred snapped out of it and stumbled after the Brit.

"No, Arthur, seriously, sorry, it's just, you're such a Brit!"

"Shut up! I don't want to talk to you!" Just as Arthur reached the door though, he was captured in an arm lock, and practically heaved into the air. He yelped as Alfred carried him through the hall, back to the kitchen. It must've looked quite odd – Alfred was taller, and had simply just locked his arms around the other and pulled him up. After some struggling, he sat the other down on the chair and knelt down to smile charmingly at him.

"I'm sorry Artie. I won't insult you again. Forgive me?" He accompanied this with a kiss to Arthur's knuckles. Fuck this, Arthur knew that Alfred knew he was a sucker for romance. He'd been using it _far _too much after Arthur admitted he liked romantic novels.

"You're a wanker."

"Not a plonker?"

"Alfred!" Arthur shouted, indignantly, when Alfred giggled again. Alfred caught himself and cleared his throat. "Look, just make us something to eat. We're going to be late." He straightened himself and tugged lose from Alfred's hold, looking at him with feigned arrogance. "and I could use another cup of tea."

Alfred obediently made him a cup of tea, before pulling out some frozen pizza's to warm, claiming he wasn't in the mood to really cook something anyway. They ate in at the table, against Alfred's will – the American had wanted to eat it in the living room in front of the television, but Arthur objected to it, and Alfred gave up trying.

They arrived at the play an hour later, Arthur looking around curiously. He had only been in the art house once, with his mother, when he had been younger. He didn't have the money for any of the plays. While they weren't exceptionally expensive, Arthur never decided to spend money on the plays. He hoped that now he was trying to quit smoking, he actually could visit a few more times. "If you're starting to get bored, bear with it." Arthur warned once they were seated and the play was about to start. Alfred feigned annoyance and joked at him a few minutes longer, until the play actually started.

Halfway in, Arthur realized they were _halfway in_, and Alfred hadn't said a word to him. He hadn't even moved all that much, or coughed, cleared his throat. Upon realizing it, he carefully looked at his left, startling when he saw Alfred looking right back at him. The hell? How long had he been staring? Arthur nervously directed his eyes back on the stage, although alarm bells were ringing in his head with every movement now. He watched as Alfred slowly grabbed his hand, and rubbed his thumb on the palm of the Brit's hand. It was comforting, and Arthur relaxed slightly, trying to focus on the play.

Ten minutes later, after a particular interesting scene, he flinched again when Alfred suddenly leant over to him. He felt the other's heat on his side, and bit his lip, wondering if he could just tug loose and shove him over. He sighed, and turned his head to whisper. "I told you that if you were-"

"I'm not bored." The sentence was punctuated with a smirk and a particular obvious look at the other, and Arthur got the hint. Oh shit, he had been staring a while, then. He broke out into a few shades of red, wondering if it would be obvious with the dark lights. Alfred leant back in the chair though, and the rest of the play he had been left alone. It didn't work for Arthur though, he had been nervous the entire time. Once the play ended, he yanked loose from the American, and quickly left the room. Alfred caught up with him, smiling widely. "You liked it?" He asked nonchalantly, as they got into the car.

"…Yes."

"We should do this more often, y'know. I know you only bear with me for the superhero movies, so I can bear this for you, if you want. It wasn't that bad, either." He rambled on about plays, superhero things and Shakespeare, until he stopped the car in front of Arthur's house. "Wait here, by the way!" Alfred ordered, jumping out and grabbing something out of the back. Arthur sighed, opening the door and throwing his legs out to get out of the car, when Alfred came back with a carton box. Arthur eyed it warily. "Here, for you!"

"What's in it?"

"Dude, you could _look_ into it. It's the books I told you about earlier. Y'know, from the smelly writers."

Arthur practically scrambled out of the car to inspect the box. The other wasn't lying, the first thing that met his eye were novels by Lewis Carroll. "Why are these here?" He asked eventually, dreading the answer but hoping it was true at the same. Oh, to see those pieces of masterwork lying so close to him… he cast the box a longing look.

"They're for you!"

"No," Arthur cleared his throat. "They're your mothers. You can't give them to me!" Oh, he _wanted _them.

"Chill. Ma wouldn't like it if I would just let them dust up in my room. She'd like it more if someone who wanted them had them. Besides, you can just _borrow _them, right?"

Yes. Yes, he could do that… it wouldn't be permanent. He could read them to his heart's lust, and then return them. It would hurt, but at least he had had them in his possession for a while. "…Fine." He shyly looked up from the box. "Eh, thank you…"

"So… you want to hang out this weekend? There's a bonfire at the beach, Mattie and Frenchy are going too… thought you might want to come."

Well, this was awkward. Arthur looked at the box next to his feet again, feeling his insides warm uncomfortably. He didn't know if Alfred knew what this meant for him. Books, real, good, books! He had half a mind of turning the offer of the weekend down so he could read all weekend. "Sounds good." He choked out, rubbing his arm.

"Cool!" Alfred smiled widely, closing the door from the passenger's seat. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow at school, then…"

"Yeah…"

They shuffled around a little, before Alfred smiled again and headed for the car. Arthur slowly bent to grab the box, quickly walking to the door, and putting the box down to open it. Fuck, something had gone wrong there. A simple thanks hadn't been enough for the books, even though Alfred pretended it was. Arthur frowned; he should've been a little more elaborate on his gratitude, he had sounded so lame with his 'thank you'… perhaps a hug, or- oh shit, he should've kissed him. He scrunched his nose. He didn't _want _to kiss him, it would make things official, and he didn't know how to kiss a guy. Well, okay, it wouldn't be very different than kissing a girl, but it wouldn't feel the same! What if he didn't like it, then this entire plan or idea or whatever would be crushed.

"Fuck." Arthur breathed angrily, turning around. Alfred was about to start the car, but he hesitated when Arthur quickly walked back to the door, tapping on the glass. Once it went down, he was met with Alfred's confused look. Damn, he was going to regret this. "Just… I really appreciate the books. Really." This was getting lame again!

"No problem! I knew you'd like them." Alfred said with a warm smile, hanging out of the window slightly. Arthur bit his cheeks, all right, just because he'd kiss him now wouldn't mean he'd have to kiss him a lot, right?

To say his first kiss with Alfred went as he had wanted it too, was very exaggerated. Well, it wasn't really a kiss, it was a really pathetic attempt, actually. Arthur had leaned in too quickly to get the job over and done with, but instead bumped his nose right into the American's _and _bumped his head on the car in the process. Dig him a hole to let him die, would you. Especially when Alfred looked at him with the most bewildered, big, blue eyes he had ever seen. All right, he made a fool of himself. Alfred could laugh. Arthur would most likely call him something British too, so the American would roll around from laughter, then Alfred would leave, and they would continue on as awkward… things.

"Come here." Alfred said with a smile, opening the door and tugging Arthur closer by the loops of his trousers. Arthur was still contemplating how awkward it was going to get from now on, when he was practically pulled halfway on the driver's seat along with the American. "Don't hurt yourself." Alfred joked warmly.

"You twat-!" He stopped once Alfred grabbed him by the neck and pulled him closer. He felt warm lips on his. More than that didn't really happen, but it felt like too much already, and Arthur gave a muffled groan when Alfred tried coaxing his lips into moving with his own. They weren't soft like the girls he kissed, but he wasn't rough or disgusting, he was warm, and it felt really _nice-_

There was a loud honk and Arthur startled, sitting up and hitting his head on the roof of the car harshly. "Ow, fuck!" He cursed, cradling his head carefully. He'd leant back too far because of Alfred and had pushed on the horn in the process, shit. Alfred laughed softly, pulling him back and pecking him on the lips quickly. "M'fine, thanks for asking, wanker." Arthur accused, his words slightly muffled because Alfred kept pecking his lips.

Eventually, he listened when Arthur struggled around, and let the other go. Arthur climbed out of the car and straightened, composing himself. Alfred smiled. "You're not running off on me again, right?"

Arthur didn't think Alfred could smile wider when he had annoyingly shook his head.


	8. Chapter 8

__**Sorry for the long wait guys ;.;**

**Chapter 8 (sort of Alfred's POV for a change?)**

It was a particularly sunny day that weekend, so Alfred had convinced Arthur to go the bonfire on the beach. He knew Arthur wanted to go, but also knew he didn't like it because of the sea and swimming involved. He bribed him with the prospect of himself and their friends coming, so Arthur gave in. Alfred had smirked. He knew he was capable of manipulating Arthur sometimes with particularly shiny eyes or a big pout, or sometimes just the right sappy words. He felt kinda guilty using the tactics on Arthur, but they worked so wonderfully, and he couldn't help but want the Brit with him _everywhere_. Besides, Arthur wanted this too, he was just in denial.

Ever true to his word, Alfred had picked the other up that Saturday afternoon, and he was now singing loudly along some country song while they were driving to the beach. It wasn't a long ride, it would take about an hour. Against his better judgment, Alfred had allowed Matthew and Francis in the backseat to save on gas. He had known beforehand the Brit next to him would be annoyed by it, but he could deal with it. He always did, so…

The first ten minutes, they had seen set on making Alfred and Arthur as uncomfortable as possible by snogging the living brains out of each other, before Francis decided on another tactic. Driving Arthur completely insane, and merely amusing the American.

"Has he cooked for you yet, Alfred? Oh _Dieu,_ you haven't lived until you've seen him cook. Wait, _petit _Arthur, you're red! You _did _cook for him! Or tried to, knowing you. Can't trust British cuisine! He didn't burn your kitchen, right? Mathieu lives there, too!"

"Shut the fuck up, frog! I can cook perfectly! I deliberately burn it for you because I want to make you sick, you snail slurper! And what is wrong with British cuisine? It's much better than what you disgusting idiots eat!"

Francis completely ignored him and went on with a few more anti-English jokes. Arthur crossed his arms, sneaking in a glare at Alfred. "Twat. Take away your shiny hair, French cuisine, exaggerated attitude and gay fashion, then what do you have?"

"You." Alfred heard himself quip in and Francis burst out into laughing, Arthur gasping at him, offended. "Sorry, that was just too easy…"

"I'm not talking to either of you. You're supposed to defend me!"

"Can't find your own battles, Arthur?" Francis helpfully added and Arthur groaned, sinking into the chair. Alfred smiled and winked, deciding he might as well help his little Brit a little.

"I wouldn't say that, Francis. After all, the only way of fighting the French know is surrendering." Arthur stared at him in surprise, while Francis gave a scandalized gasp, feigning hurt and putting a hand over his heart. "You know how to confuse a French soldier? Give him a rifle and tell him to shoot something."

"You are so racist, you _imbecile_! Did you forget France helped America to liberation?"

"Did you forget England owned half of France once?" Arthur piped in.

Alfred laughed. "And America is dating England now, so France can go suck up to Canada and leave my little island alone.

"Oh get a room, _mon dieu_."

"Look who's talking, frog!" Arthur replied, albeit a bit more cheerful then first. He had a tiny blush covered over his cheeks but Alfred was delighted that he didn't pull away (although he didn't react either) once he grabbed the other's hand tightly.

Francis whined about how unfair it was until Matthew mumbled he had deserved it, and that he should leave Arthur (while no one butchered Alfred for pestering Francis, haha!), and Francis fell back into the seat with a dramatic pout.

They took a break at a gas station to fuel on gas, and Matthew and Francis hopped into the store to buy things. Alfred pulled a face when he saw Arthur pulling out a cigarette, and gave some exaggerated disgusted moans while throwing the car full with gas.

"I thought you were quitting?" Alfred asked once he was finished. Arthur took a long drag before stomping it out on the ground.

"It's like anorexia, you can't just quit any moment." Arthur said dryly, as Alfred's face twisted with mild humor at the ridiculous comparison. "It's my last pack anyway. 'M not buying any after these."

Even Alfred could hear he wasn't so certain of that. He knew the other didn't have a lot of money, so he hoped that helped. He grinned and knelt down by the open car door where Arthur was sitting in.

"So, you said you were trying to quit a few weeks ago. Was it because I said it was gross?" Arthur answered with a raised eyebrow and a scoff. The American took it as a yes anyway, and pecked him on corner of his lips, laughing when Arthur pushed him away. All right, Alfred had kissed him a few days ago, but the Brit still wasn't used to it, especially not in public. "You don't go out into the sun much, do you?" He asked, eyeing Arthur's white legs. Arthur had chosen for shorts whereas Alfred threw that out of the window and wore his swimming trunk.

"I'm British, you git, what do you think."

"Hey, just because Francis uses stereotypes, doesn't mean I do! And I totally defended you there, so give me a treat, hmm?"

"I'm not going to snog you senseless in the backseat, if that's what you are asking."

Alfred pouted. "Too bad. But Mattie can't drive all that well anyway, so that wouldn't be happening. By the way, do you have curfew or something? Probably not but I don't wanna be the boogeyman. Tell me when you wanna go home and I'll take you there, okay?"

Arthur frowned, and Alfred knew the other wasn't going to do something like that. He'd more likely take the bus or wait until everyone else went home. Oh well, Alfred would notice sooner or later if the other wanted to go home.

"Yeah, sure. If Francis sleeping over at yours?" Arthur asked hesitantly, and Alfred smirked.

"I think Mattie was going over to Francis', actually. Why?" Mentally he laughed. He knew where Arthur was going at. If he had to believe the Brit, Arthur didn't like it one bit at home and often stayed over at Francis. "If you don't wanna go home you can stay over at my place!"

"…What about-"

"Still in Europe, and ma would already be asleep because she has to get up early tomorrow for something." It would probably be awkward for the other, though Alfred saw no problems. He did this all the time, but of course it'd be slightly different because Arthur is his _boyfriend _and not just a male friend.. It wasn't as if Alfred expected them to do something dirty. Oh great, now he was blushing… and Arthur was eyeing him weirdly. Okay, get the dirty thing out of your head. Now. Think of your grandma. Ew, wait, what? He shouldn't get ahead of himself, they haven't even been kissing for a week. They were hardly anything official.

"…Fine." Arthur eventually forced out. Alfred's face lit up in a brilliant smile, and he leant down to peck him again, which Arthur thankfully allowed this time. Francis and Matthew returned with drinks and junk food, and they were back on the road, arriving at the beach forty minutes later.

Most of the other teens from school that were invited were there already, and Arthur and Francis left the two brothers to carry their stuff. Alfred complained playfully about it, making a kissy face to the Brit when he glared.

"I'm surprised you got Arthur to join." Matthew said quietly as they grabbed their stuff and left the car. "Francis said he wasn't fond of the beach…"

"Yeah, but that's no reason to deny the hero!"

"You're ridiculous." Matthew laughed as Alfred playfully kicked some sand at him. They carried the stuff over where to Arthur and Francis had sat down, Alfred a little distracted by people here and there calling for him. Eventually he dumped the stuff he was holding next to Arthur, who started, and smirked at him.

"_Amigos!" _Antonio bellowed once he noticed his friends. Soon enough, Antonio sat down with them, an angry Lovino following and sitting next to him with a scowl. The other Italian brother followed him too, so that the stiffer one of the German brothers eventually sat down as well. Arthur scowled at the sudden visit, but Alfred supposed it was always better than sitting with only Francis. Gilbert had made a brief visit, but soon enough disappeared with some brunette boy with glasses.

"I hope that anything edible you brought wasn't made by _Angleterre, _hmm?" Alfred face palmed as Arthur and Francis immediately went off at it again, the rest practically ignoring them. Feeling like this shouldn't be happening on what was supposed to be a fun night, Alfred grabbed Arthur by his shirt and pulled him closer.

"Stop talking already, you Brit." Alfred scolded playfully, and Arthur pushed him off.

"Toss off, wanker." Arthur glared fiercely at the American. "I may be a Brit, but you're a typical American. You could've at least had the decency to clean your room when you abducted me this afternoon. You made such a mess by the television too! There was an empty cabinet, put your DVD's in _there._ Don't give me that look either. You're horrible, you hypocrite. And it's fortunate you work out, because with all that food you wolf down, it's a surprise you're not as fat as a hippo."

"Hey! I'm not fat! And if I were, then there would only be more to hold onto, which you oh so dramatically denied doing when you forced Wuthering Heights on me."

Alfred had distracted Arthur from Francis, but now he and the Brit were verbally fighting for at least another five minutes. Arthur got wonderfully riled up when Alfred jokingly compared Wuthering Heights to Twilight. In the end, he made a cheeky comment about him being adorable, and Arthur had been reduced to some mumbling.

He smiled and leant his head on his knees as he shamelessly watched the Brit. Arthur was already involved in a somewhat civilised conversation with Antonio, Francis and Matthew, and probably didn't notice him (if he did, Alfred was surprised he was being so cool about it). He sighed. More than often Arthur gave him the feeling that he didn't really want this whole ordeal, that he never meant for them to get a relationship or whatever they were having. It made Alfred unsure, but he wasn't keen on giving something up, being a hero and all. He _had _been fairly interested in Arthur since the moment he saw him. Okay, not romantically. He wasn't sure about the whole romance thing either, but he could figure that out along the way.

He _really _liked the Brit and his angry spats and adorable blushing. And he got a funny feeling in his stomach when they talked and something ached when Arthur laughed or smiled or showed some sort of amusement, and his entire being burnt once he was able to land a peck on Arthur's lips or when they kissed a bit heavier. Albeit Alfred always had to initiate it, so after three days he kept it to pecking. Perhaps that would make the other a little more comfortable. He knew Arthur had loosened up to him recently, wasn't as annoyed as he was at first, and actually let Alfred complain or do what he wanted, but Alfred couldn't help but feel guilty and admit he wanted more. Oh well.. teenager hormones and shit.

The evening went fairly quickly. Alfred had even left Arthur for a moment, meeting up with some other friends. Arthur hadn't minded at all, still bantering around with his friends. Everything was going just fine, until Alfred looked at Arthur again for a second and saw something happening that wasn't to his liking. He glared and huffed, immediately leaving the group he was standing with, making his way over to Arthur.

Ivan Braginski. Ugh, he had hated the guy since they were both children. He didn't have a clear memory of what had happened, but he remembered a crying Mattie, some broken toys and a lot of bullying throughout the years. He had tried to ignore the other, but sometimes Ivan just initiated a fight. And he was pretty sure, Ivan knew he was going to get pissed if he would talk to Arthur.

He stood behind a crouching Ivan and cleared his throat. Matthew was already looking tense, and Francis and Arthur looked up curiously, while Antonio had fled the scene with two scared Italians (for some reason, Lovino and Feliciano couldn't stand Ivan and always ran away when he neared them). Ludwig was walking after them with a tired sigh.

"Alfred." Ivan said cheerfully, standing up. Damn, Alfred hated the fact that the Russian was just a tad bit taller than him. "How are you, comrade?"

"Get bent." Alfred hissed, nodding his head for Ivan to move it. Ivan smiled eerily at him. He always had a childish tinge to his smiles, which made them even more irritating. Alfred gave his most manipulating smile.

"Don't be rude. Why don't you introduce me to your pet, hmm?"

Arthur scoffed and stood up as well, but Alfred completely ignored his indignant reply, and his smile tightened. "Why should I introduce him to you? He's not a chubby-chaser." He gave a very obvious up-and-down look to exaggerate his insult. Ivan's face hardened.

"I would say he was, you haven't been working out as much lately, have you?"

"Still strong enough to beat your sorry ass, if that's what you're asking."

Ivan's grin widened, and he took a step closer, probably about to initiate a fight with the hot-headed American, when Arthur stepped right in between them and gave the Russian a good, hard shove that made Ivan stumble back a step or two. Some people that had been watching (everyone admitted that fights between Alfred and Ivan were very interesting because they were both pretty strong), fell quiet and Alfred looked down at the Brit incredulously. It would've looked comical seeing that Arthur was at least a head smaller than Ivan. Even Ivan looked down at the Brit with surprise.

"Can it, wanker. Go back to your little circle of friends or I won't be scared to call Natalya, so get the hell out of my sight."

Woah. Alfred bit his lip. Seriously? Did Arthur just threaten Ivan with calling his sister? Usually this threat would be laughed upon, but if you knew Ivan's sister, oh boy, you knew it was a serious threat. Ivan frowned.

"Can't fight your own battles, Jones?" He asked casually, looking up from the Brit. "I must say you have gotten pretty weak if-"

Alfred was about to retort, when Arthur scowled and did the unimaginable: he punched Ivan square in his face, his fist connecting with the other's jaw nicely. Alfred's mouth hung open like a shocked fish, and he had no idea what to say. Did Arthur just… _what. _

"Don't fucking ignore me."

As soon as Ivan recovered from the blow though, his face contorted with anger and Alfred pushed Arthur out of the way, so that Ivan tackled the American instead of the tiny Brit. Although, Alfred was sure Arthur could handle himself pretty good, he didn't want to be stuck with Arthur and some painful bruises. They rolled over the ground trying to get some punches at each other before Ludwig and some Australian kid he knew via Arthur pulled them apart quickly. Ivan kept saying menacing things in Russian and Alfred just mocked him, ignoring a split lip while laughing, but the whole ordeal ended quickly when Ivan was dragged of somewhere and Alfred was kept there by Ludwig.

As soon as Ivan was out of Alfred's sight, he shrugged himself loose from Ludwig and gave the group a charming smile. "Well, that went fantastic." At the casual remark, some girls burst out into giggles and Matthew sighed. Alfred winked at the group before turning around, looking down at Arthur, who pointedly glared at him before sitting back down next to Francis.

"You're an idiot."

"Hey! I just saved your ass there! I mean, don't get me wrong, you doing that and punching him and shit was totally _hot,_ but you would've been beaten to a pulp if I didn't push you away."

"Don't be so overconfident. I can handle myself."

Alfred grimaced. Usually, when he saved someone from Ivan's wrath (Toris, for example), he would've been treated like a hero. They'd dramatically throw themselves at his feet and express their thanks- okay, so they just thanked him and stuff. Alfred frowned; Arthur wasn't even keen on doing that. Meh, he should've expected it though, Arthur wasn't really the kind that would do that. Still, he was irritated. Perhaps he had to cool down first. "Whatever." Alfred muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning around to walk away. He heard Francis mock Arthur behind his back and Arthur replying half-heartedly, but chose to ignore it and walked back to the car. He rubbed his cheek and checked his lip for blood (none, fortunately), as he jumped on the hood of his car and lied down, closing his eyes.

Almost immediately after he did so, he heard soft shuffling in the sand nearby and someone standing next to him. Judging by the irritated huff when Alfred didn't look up, he kinda hoped it would be Arthur. As he opened his eyes and looked up, he saw Matthew standing next to the car with a scowl. "Did you have to make a scene again?"

"He started it!" Alfred said childishly, pouting. Matthew gave him a look.

"How many times did I tell you to be the grown up one and just ignore him? You completely ruined the mood. Francis took Arthur away somewhere for God knows why and now I'm stuck with the idiot Italians and Antonio."

"Why did Francis took Arthur away?"

Another thing. He completely trusted when Arthur had angrily claimed Francis and he would never date or whatever, and that at the most they were friends but even that was debatable (everyone knew they were good friends, but okay), but sometimes Alfred really couldn't help but be jealous. He couldn't help it, Francis didn't hide the fact he knew pretty much everything about Arthur, and the Brit never wanted to tell Alfred anything without a lot of pushing on his part. He scoffed.

"The hell should I know, they're like two girls who need their gossip time or something." Matthew said lamely, and Alfred couldn't help but snicker lightly. Eventually Matthew crawled onto the hood of the car as well, lying back down. "Dad's coming back Monday."

"Yeah."

They shared a mutual frown. While their dad had never been anything but the perfect role model, he was also relentless and he pushed them both to their limits when it came to school and performances. And he didn't like Matthew coming out of the closet, so Alfred was afraid to do it as well. For some reason, his dad had always pushed Alfred harder. Alfred was better in sports and in school, even though Matthew wasn't bad at all. Matthew calmed their father down with the fact he was bisexual and not homosexual. Alfred however… he knew his dad wasn't going to like it. At least his mother was okay with it (she knew everything without the boys telling her, it was creepy actually).

They spend half an hour conversing about trivial little things and arguing over which game they should buy next (they had to share the PlayStation 3), when Matthew got a text from Francis and left to find him. Alfred sat up on the hood and stared at the ground aimlessly for a moment, wondering if there was still beer in the boot of the car but too lazy to get up and see if there was. He felt his cheek tighten a little and knew there was going to be an ugly bruise there tomorrow, but he could handle it. It wasn't the worst that ever came out of a fight between him and Ivan, after all.

Alfred rubbed his cheek because it still felt a little annoying, and squinted a little when he saw someone approaching him. It was already dark and there were lights here and there, but his eyesight already wasn't the best. He recognized the mop of blonde hair soon enough, and Arthur eyed him warily. "There you are. Matthew told me you were looking for me?"

That sly bastard. Alfred shook his head and grinned. "Aren't I always? What's that?" He asked, nodding to what Arthur was holding. Arthur threw it over to the American and he caught it, inspecting it closer. It was an icepack, and Alfred smiled a little, silently pressing it against his cheek. It sure did bring a little relief, because he only now felt the slight burning. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

There was a silence, and Alfred's gaze stayed fixed on a belt loop of Arthur's pants that wasn't attached on one side, idiotically wondering how it could've gotten loose. Did he get stuck somewhere? A stupid image of him and Francis doing whatever and it getting loose crossed his mind, but that was idiotic. It probably had been unattached much earlier.

"I'm not angry at you." Arthur eventually mumbled, and Alfred raised his eyebrows. "I'm sorry I seemed angry.. I'm not. You're acting weird so I thought maybe that had something to do with it."

Alfred chuckled. "Babe, aren't you always angry at me? Nah, I didn't think so. Just thinking some things over." Arthur nodded and averted his eyes, clearing his throat. He was probably aware of Alfred studying him, but Alfred did that a lot nowadays and Arthur never really seemed to mind a lot.

"Do you want to head back?" Arthur asked eventually, and Alfred smiled at how uncertain Arthur sounded. Sometimes he could be so hesitant and shy, while Arthur mostly gave the impression he was an unimpressed know-it-all that didn't care about anything. Alfred shrugged.

"Do you want to?" Arthur didn't reply and Alfred smiled. "As long as I'm with you that's okay for me I guess."

"Stop saying embarrassing things, wanker." Arthur said with a blush crawling on his cheeks, although it sounded a lot less intimidating than usual. "How's your cheek?"

"It doesn't hurt all that much. I've had worse." He replied cheekily, winking. Arthur frowned a tiny bit but nodded, approaching the hood and leaning against it, so his back was to Alfred. He seemed really tense, and Alfred wondered what had happened when he was away. This can't be because Alfred walked away semi-disappointed, right? Arthur had way too much pride for that. He was twitchy too. Did Francis say something to him? Or worse, did Ivan come back?

"Arthur, you okay? Did Ivan come back to annoy you? Tell me, cause I can totally kick his ass if he did." He punched his fist into his other hand for extra effect and smiled widely and encouragingly at the other, and Arthur looked at him with wide eyes. So, Ivan wasn't the cause either? Then it must've been Francis. He was about to inquire what Francis did, when Arthur spun around and crawled onto the hood of the car on top of him, pushing Alfred back and frantically grabbing his shirt as he pressed his lips against the American's.

Alfred mind short-circuited, because he was damn startled by the sudden initiative Arthur was showing. But as soon as he was pushed back, he regained common sense, because damn if he wasn't going to take this opportunity for a good snog. Perhaps Arthur was okay with this now and they could do it more often! He wasted no time in grabbing the other tightly in his arms and turning them around slowly so Arthur was under him. His heart beat fluttered wildly as Arthur quietly gave a groan, his fingers pulling at the other's hair in an attempt to get them even closer. Alfred smiled, one hand at the other's waist and the other on the car so he wouldn't crush the smaller Brit. Arthur eventually pulled back for air and Alfred planted soft kisses in his neck in the meanwhile.

"We should go back," Arthur said, and Alfred was delighted to hear he was panting slightly. Alfred smiled at him and shook his head, leaning a bit more of his weight on Arthur and the other mumbled about him being heavy.

"We don't have to. Let's stay here." Alfred decided, and Arthur scoffed, but didn't move anyway. Instead, he felt one arm slowly wrapping himself around the other, and Alfred was glad his face was partially hidden in Arthur's neck. He was sure Arthur had a ridiculous expression on his face too, but for now, Alfred was happy with just this.

* * *

**R&R~ **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hmmm I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, might do it over sometime. But here it is~ **

**Chapter 9**

Arthur wished he could claim he had no idea what had happened to his behaviour towards Alfred that evening, but he was pretty sure he knew. First of all, there was always that awkwardness of Arthur being frustrated with not knowing what to do with the American. Second of all, he had come to terms with liking the other, but he didn't really know how to express it. Add more frustration. And last, the fight with Ivan. _Hell, _if an angry Alfred wasn't one of the most sexiest things he had ever seen.

He was weird, he knew. It was probably something wrong too, to get all bothered by that. To think about it, would it connect with his weird obsession of trying to get his parents angry at him? But, that was just something he wanted because they were never angry. He wouldn't like them being angry at him all the time. He just wanted them to snap once, and show that they weren't the ideal parents.

Anyway. The fight was pretty inevitable, Arthur didn't really have any idea of why he decided to intervene either. It just seemed like the logical thing to do when Ivan pestered Alfred about the Brit. He had some pride, thank you very much. But aside of that, he didn't really know about their rivalry, but there was always enough tension when they passed each other on the school corridors. He'd have to ask about it later.

As soon as Alfred had pushed him out of the way and taken the blow for him though, Arthur could only stare with some sick kind of fascination. It was exhilarating. He had never seen the American angry. Sure, he got a little heated in his arguments about superheroes and aliens, but if Arthur said something mean or provoking, Alfred always brushed it off with a joke or smile. But he had definitely been angry then. He honestly hadn't thought the American had it in him. But he had always kind of wished he'd see something like this. Alfred was big, and strong, and he could probably pick Arthur up like he was a bag of feathers. And yet he was always so gentle and careful, and it annoyed Arthur to the point he got used to the irritation, but _this…_

People had eventually broken Alfred and Ivan apart, and both of them didn't sport any big injuries. Ivan had a slightly more than normal swollen eye, and Alfred was wiping at his mouth. Ivan left the scene after that, and Alfred came back, and the first thing Arthur had done was arguing and being mean, just because he felt so exhilarated, and he didn't know what to do. As soon as Alfred left, Francis pulled Arthur away from the group to discuss something about Matthew. Arthur had been irritated about it and had continuously thought about Alfred and Alfred and Alfred, until Francis left him and Matthew came to find him to tell Alfred was looking for him. Arthur went to him, and did the only logical thing to do; went up to him and gave him a somewhat less-awkward than the first time kiss.

Alfred had brushed it off for impulsive behaviour, but Arthur pretty much knew why (he could deny it though) he kept looking at the American again and again. They had decided to re-join the group, and Arthur couldn't keep his eyes off of the other. He knew he was acting a little too different from before, because even Francis was just looking weirdly and not commenting on it, but he didn't care. He wasn't doing anything wrong.

As soon as Francis directed his attention to getting drinks, Arthur caught Matthew sitting on his other side and smirked. "So, how are you and Francis?" Arthur started out nonchalantly, wanting to continue, but Matthew interrupted him politely and smiled.

"Francis had warned me about this, but you don't need to worry. I'm not a plaything, I guess." Arthur was annoyed that Francis had told him about the routine Arthur would take, whenever Francis dated for longer than three weeks.

"I thought so, because it looks like you have him completely wrapped around your fingers. But I just wanted to pretend I'm some protective friend." He admitted. Of course, Francis had just returned and heard it, and let out a scandalized gasp.

"Do my ears betray me, _rosbif_? You are not actually the protective caterpillar I thought you were? My world is shattered!"

"Don't call me a caterpillar, you frog!"

"Honhonhon, then don't get your perverse excuses for eyebrows anywhere near my _petite _Mathieu! I still don't know if they're contagious!"

"The hell they are! The only thing that's contagious around here is your herpes!"

"Nasty! But how do _you_ know I would or would not have herpes, _hhhhmmm?_"

"Wanker! Don't imply such a thing!" Arthur noticed Matthew was laughing the loudest he ever heard him laugh, and he wondered if everyone saw him and Francis as just another joke. Well, it was, actually.

He felt his hand being grabbed and he started, before letting Alfred intertwine their fingers. It felt horribly cheesy, but he allowed it, because Alfred's attention was on him and he wanted that. Alfred smiled lightly. "Stop fighting already guys, I'm getting tired of it." How contradictory of him to say, when he's just been complaining to someone about the Russian.

Arthur pointed that out and Alfred pouted, retorting about not being able to help it, like some superheroes can't control their strength. Ridiculous comparison, but okay. Arthur sighed and leant back slightly, surprising yet again the entire group when he casually leant back on Alfred and the American wrapped his arm around the other's waist. Alfred had a big goofy grin on his face and Arthur's face burned slightly, but he ignored it and pointedly closed his eyes until the group went back to their chatter and the two were forgotten.

Alfred buried his face in the other's hair so he could whisper. "So, that earlier, was that an one-time thing or can I do it again?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and scoffed. "What do you take me for, some whore? Of course it wasn't an one-time thing!"

"Yeah, yeah, thought so. It was just… kind of random. Doesn't mean I didn't like it."

"Just take it or bloody leave it, wanker."

He heard the American chuckle slightly mainly through body movements and Arthur grew silent again, staring blankly at the sand in front of him while Alfred bend down again a bit. "Does this mean, you're, you know, my boyfriend or something? I mean... we're practically are… you know."

Arthur cleared his throat. "What, you weren't my boyfriend already?" Oh shit, he felt so gay and girly for saying it, but this would clear it up, this would make it easier… and he didn't mind the word all that much. He wanted to be with Alfred, he wasn't sure if that was always in a romantic matter, but it might as well be. Besides, they didn't always need to be snogging or hugging or whatever. They could do loads of friendly stuff.

When Alfred didn't respond at first, Arthur untangled himself from the other and turned around to ask what his bloody problem was. He froze when he saw Alfred looking at him intensely with a growing smile.

"Heh… guess I am, huh." He said softly, probably more to himself than to Arthur. Arthur boldly kept looking at him, hoping he was doing a good job of glaring. It didn't intimidate the other anyway, and Arthur didn't really feel intimidating either. Alfred smiled a bit more confidently, inching closer to the Brit again. "So I can kiss you again?'

Arthur scowled, shrinking back a little. "In front of everyone?" Was that to prove his manliness or whatever? He wasn't really comfortable with it but everyone in this group already knew they had at least some kind of fling, so he supposed it wouldn't hurt if it made Alfred happy, he'd just have to put up with Francis afterwards.

Alfred laughed. "Let's go, come on." He stood up and practically dragged Arthur upwards as well. "Matthew, you're going home with Francis right?" At Matthew's startled answer, Alfred nodded and quickly collected their things and dragged the Brit back to the car. As soon as he dumped their stuff in the backseat of the car, he grabbed Arthur and gave him a peck on his lips with a chuckle, before shoving Arthur into the passenger's seat.

"At least be a little gentle!" Arthur complained as Alfred got in the driver's seat. "You're an idiot. Why do we need to go back already? I'm not tired yet."

"Neither am I." Alfred said, starting the engine. He glanced back at Arthur and smiled suggestively, and Arthur's eyes widened. Wait, what? He was momentarily angered because Alfred simply dragged him away just because he was selfish, but he felt a little constricted too.

After a few seconds of staring at each other, Arthur coughed lightly. "Eh… Alfred, I know I acted like it, but I don't want to move _that _quickly…"

It took a while for Alfred to understand, and he burst out into laughter. Arthur scowled. "Dude, no! I just meant, we could go hang out at my place without them and just, you know, spend time with each other. I wasn't even thinking about _that._ I was hoping for another make out session though but if you don't want to, that's that. We should go watch horror movies though, I heard it was going to storm tonight!"

Arthur shook his head firmly. "Absolutely no horror movies! You can do that with someone else you wanker!"

The other smiled and pushed himself forwards, bending a little over the arm's rest and pressing their lips together. Arthur tightened his fists, resisting the initial urge to flinch, and slowly let Alfred coax him into opening his lips. Arthur had never really liked open mouthed kisses, they were too wet and sticky, but somehow, Alfred worked around that disgusting little fact and made him feel warm and pleasant instead of aware of the weirdness. Alfred broke the kiss with a sweet peck on his lips and smiled, before sitting back down on his seat and practically dragging Arthur's hand down on the armrest.

The Brit glared, sitting back as well and trying to relax a little more. The ride back to Alfred's house was pretty silent afterwards, alternating with Alfred switching channels on the radio and commenting on someone's driving, trying to amuse the other. It worked, because Arthur relaxed completely, and called him a wanker once or twice. Back at Alfred's house, Arthur tensed up immediately though, and as they entered the house he feared the worst when he heard sounds from the kitchen. Alfred snickered at his 'deer-in-the-headlights' look and squeezed his hand before releasing him and walking to the kitchen.

"Hey mom! We're home!"

"Hey honey. Who's we? Thought Matt was going to sleep over at Francis'?"

Alfred's mother was a very pretty lady, was the first thing that childishly went through Arthur's mind. She was of average height, a little chubby but not overly, had long, blonde hair and warm brown eyes that looked at him in a friendly way. She was barefoot and in a sweatpants and a large T-Shirt, making her look younger than she probably was.

"This is Arthur!" Alfred introduced happily, clapping Arthur on the back softly. Arthur scoffed at the motion and stiffly held out his hand to shake Mrs Jones her hand. She gently shook his hand while introducing herself. "He's my, eh, you know, boyfriend."

The randomness of it all made Arthur's skin burst out into various shades of red and he reeled back to Alfred to yell at him, and was about to whack him over his head, before he noticed that Alfred's mother only smiled a bit warmer and nodded. "He's cute, good job."

_What._

Alfred laughed and petted a dumbstruck Arthur. "Yeah, he's not that fond of people saying that though. Better watch out or he'll unleash British anger on you, ma."

"I'll show you British anger!" Arthur tried to sound a little amused (and hopefully menacing towards Alfred), but he felt it coming out as a squeak, and was it hot in here or was he really that embarrassed? "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

"Oh please don't call me ma'am. Emily is all right." Arthur stuttered an 'all right ma- I mean Emily', and her attention went to smoothing down Alfred's hair for a moment. Alfred dove out of the way like it happened all the time and Arthur hid his smile behind his hand – it looked rather silly. "Well, I was on my way to bed. Sleep well kids, don't make it too late." With that she took a mug from the kitchen counter and left to go upstairs.

Once Arthur no longer heard footsteps on the stairs, he looked the American with a hardly contained amused look. Alfred rubbed the back of his head with his hand and smiled goofily. "Yeah, should've told you that I told her about us. Sorry. Dad doesn't know however. Only told her this Friday."

Arthur sighed and shrugged. "It caught me off guard, is all…"

"Sorry 'bout that, then." Alfred said with a sweet smile, before prancing off to the kitchen again. "I'm gonna grab us some drinks and snacks and we can go upstairs to watch a movie, okay?" Arthur made a sound of agreement, looking at the clock. It was eleven P.M. They had been at the beach gathering for quite a while. His skin did feel a little warm too, perhaps the lingering sun had got to him before it went down. Alfred returned quickly before pushing him to the stairs. Arthur looked at the small pile of snacks with a slightly disgusted frown – he wasn't even remotely hungry after the barbeque they had earlier on the beach. "Come on slowpoke, up the stairs with you."

"Shut it, fatass." Arthur muttered, quickly climbing up the stairs with the American behind him. Alfred took the lead once they were upstairs (of course it was also spacious up here), and led them through a hallway, before stopping at a door. Alfred kicked it open gently and entered, dumping all the stuff on the desk. Arthur had already been here before so there was nothing new. Posters of sportsmen and superheroes painted the walls, there was a mess near his desk and near his television, and there were comic figures on emptied bookshelves. Arthur sat down on the bed and looked around. His own room was a lot smaller, yes, but at least he stacked his mess. Alfred just left it lingering.

"Soooo which movie first? I've got Paranormal Activity, the Exorcist, Poltergeist, The Descent, The Omen-"

"And do you have anything that _won't _have you peeing your pants?"

Alfred pouted. "Aww come on Artie! I'm not scared of those movies, I watched them hundreds of times!" Arthur's glare was unrelenting. "Ugh, _fine. _I got… Superhero movies, obviously. X-men, Spiderman, Captain America, Iron Man, etcetera. Harry Potter… uh, work with me man. What do you want to see?"

"I don't care as long as you don't stop my blood circulation in fear." Arthur said dully.

"You're not too enthusiastic about this." Alfred said, suddenly serious. "Do you wanna go home instead? I can take you home if you want."

The way he said it, made it very obvious that Alfred didn't want to take him home. He'd probably do it once Arthur would ask him too, though. He scooted backwards until his back met the wall. "I'm just tired of today. You'd better put the spare bed up already, in case I fall asleep during the movie."

After a small argument over where Arthur would sleep – Alfred said Arthur could sleep in his bed and that it was big enough for the both of them, and Arthur thought that was ridiculous and embarrassing (even though he would do it with Francis when they were drunk and/or tired), and suddenly Alfred was demonstrating how many people could fit in without even touching each other, and he was pulling ridiculous face along it, so Arthur chuckled and gave in. He did go as far as changing clothes in the bathroom adjoined with Alfred's room, because he wasn't all that familiar with his _boyfriend _yet. Wow, it felt so strange to say that word. And for some reason it didn't really feel like anything had changed. Arthur had never singled out the option he could like guys, so when he thought of the challenge of dating Alfred he had naturally gone along with it, albeit with some stress and trouble.

As he looked at himself in the mirror, he frowned. Was he even remotely attractive? Sure, he had his distinctive features. He had blazing green eyes that often got everyone's attention. Girls always talked about how cool and rebellious his mop of blonde hair was (which he didn't do anything with, actually). Upon closer inspection there'd be a tiny scar by his ear from when their former cat had attacked him in blind fear (the poor old cat was old, blind, and practically deaf by then, and Arthur had been a silly six year old). It wasn't very noticeable or ugly, though. He didn't look chubby, but wasn't very skinny either.

The only thing he lingered at – of course – his eyebrows. Perhaps he should pluck them. His mum always fussed over how ugly that would turn out to be. It probably would, like some photo-shopped model. He sighed and ran his hands over his eyebrows with a glare. At least he wasn't the only one burdened with it – Two of his brothers and his father had the same. Alfred didn't seem to mind, at least, he never mentioned minding them. He pulled his shirt over his head with a huff and changed into something more comfortable to sleep in. As he had thought, Alfred's sweatpants was too big for him, but it stayed on his hips good enough. The shirt had too much space left too, but it was nothing to be bothered about.

As if he hadn't thought or stressed or mulled things over enough, Arthur sat down on the rim of the bathtub and complemented if he found Alfred attractive. He had never really thought a guy to be attractive. But the same went for a girl. Of course he admitted some girls were pretty and some guys were handsome, but he had never really felt an attraction. He did like to kiss Alfred though. Even if he was somewhat playing hard-to-get because he was nervous. And when Alfred would smile he would feel a bit better, but that sounded cheesy. He supposed that if he had to choose from all the people he knew, he'd rather see Alfred naked.

Wait, that sounded creepy.

Arthur grinned at his own stupid thoughts. That probably meant he thought of Alfred as attractive yes. Or he was just a hormonal teenager, but probably a combination of both. He retreated from the bathroom and came back into the bedroom, seeing Alfred lying on the ground in front of the telly and tinkering with the DVD player. He climbed back onto the bed and watched as the other eventually stood up again, turning his way. He fell silent and smiled, which eventually grew into a grin. Arthur scowled; the American did get on his nerves a little… but mostly on a good way, he assumed. "What is your problem?"

Alfred shrugged. "Oh just, you in my clothes. Quite adorable."

"You did not just call me adorable."

"Oh yes I did!" He sing-sung.

Arthur groaned and threw a pillow into the American's face. This was going to be a long night if it would be up to Alfred.

* * *

**R&R!**


End file.
